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Sapphic Daydream

2.19.18

By Felecia BurgettPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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The simple soft curve

of your lips

smeared with cinnamon chapstick

and a body that writhes

under my tongue,

And you don't mind

that it takes two hands

to lift up my belly--

spilling out through fingers

cake in a pan that can't hold it

sweeter for all the effort

hours slaving over this skin

that so petulantly refuses love

that so often looks like a

grisled demon glaring out from

an accidental mirror glance

but you are a dream

just as much as this

incense smoke that

evaporates into the walls

And I can only

drool over you,

and imagine your face

and wonder

how the moonlight looks

dripping over

unclothed shoulders

demure, and pure,

and everything I'm not

and won't imagine myself to be

the ugly duckling

always makes me cry

fat little fingers clenching

wide and glossy hardback

what cygnet raised by ducks

would ever live?

Mother finds that ill shaped egg

squashes the life that shouldn't be born

oh fuck, I'm too morose

to make this dream come true.

No wonder the swan

never bloomed under my wing

and reached its long neck

to behold a reflection

that screams beauty

and finds its home--

love poems
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About the Creator

Felecia Burgett

Novice writer, amateur novelist, poet, article writer, dabble, and animal lover.

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