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Concealed in Secrets

One hand presenting to the gaze
Tracing careful teases

The other partially concealed
Buried in secrets

The first traces lips, piercing
The second remains, piercing

The first finds tongue, soft and warm
The second remains, soft and warm

The first grips a shoulder, tightly
The second remains, hidden

In time they find the last places
They need to be, until

Pushing, pulling
Need quivers from one to the other

Pulling, pushing
Hunger quakes in the briefest of spasms

No more pushing, no more pulling
They have only one job left

To gently comfort, together
Resting on the other, soft and warm

March 13 – 23, 2025

Published inPoetryFree Verse

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