Maroon Cotton

Maroon cotton

Over Worn jeans;

His fingers find

My covered folds.

Exploring I take

            His mouth and taste,

My fingers tug

            At his cotton.

Impulse flares;

            It is mid-day,

There are no familial

            Duties to fulfill,

There is no reason

For false resistance.

We fall into bed

            Fall into each other;

Maroon cotton and jeans

            Tumble to the floor.

Ariel

Mar 27, 2004