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tremble :: major jackson

by on July 22, 2016

My neighbor is velvety and kicks serious game.
So sweet garlic refuses to hang tight
in his mouth. He pulls women to his wide chest
each time as if he’s won the Lotto. He rocks
them gently and gentler. My neighbor
is a master spooner. He knows not of desire, but only
the rules of engagement. He says, I miss
having Skype on all night so I can listen
to your breathing.
He floats in his museum,
of gams, drifting from frame to frame.


From → poems

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