~ a poem ~

Each day,
when you have
a moment
alone,
I want you
to close your eyes,
and touch yourself
here,
and think of me.

You may be
rough,
or not.

You may cum,
or not.

You choose.

But remember,
as your hand lingers,
in pleasure
or pain,
the feel
of my touch.

Categorised as: Poem | Writing

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