When Sadness Lingers

Standard

When sadness lingers
like the last guest at a party
who fails to pick up
on the hint that it’s time to leave,
I have only to imagine
your soft blue eyes,
your fuck-me lips,
your plump curves
beneath my fingertips,
and the way your thighs part
like the Red Sea
showing me the way home.

-r. miller

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