Zywa
Birdie
He comes in without a word
undresses and points at me
from his golden locks of hair
with the power of his lordship
the natural armament of men
overbearing and selfish
but an overwhelming pleasure
when it enters me, rhythmically
taking me into ecstasies
making me drift
beyond any awareness
of bodily limits
Afterward, again
the wonder of the birdie
growing
with the slightest touch
of my lips, my tongue
and his desire
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