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The Poet (Ode to Joe) “I love the gentle swell of your stomach.” I melt when he says these words, As he worships me with his fingertips. “I love the feel of your muscular thighs.” He thinks he’s not a poet, But, he touches me with simple terms. “I love the curve of your breast.” And when he makes the declaration, I’m lost in awe, and his caress. “I love your sensual eyes.” I tell him when he looks at me, “You’ve poetry in your heart.” After all what is a poet? Someone who evokes great feeling With just a turn of phrase. This is what he does for me, As syllables roll off his tongue And I tremble at his praise. |
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