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I want his face
nicely towards me

I don't want to tear it open
because he chooses
me this weekend

I want his stubble
his fabric softener

he is so different
from the men of my friends
with their itchy sperm

I want his words
his withheld love

reserved
for me under clothes
of inaccessibility

Poem 975
Amsterdam, 2017-01-23

Collection: Without reserve 
Keyword: In love:  
Dedicated to: Sheree P 
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