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Futile Desire by Carvaleo © |
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I make for you a Crawford face, tease the mane of boxed-blonde locks, don a spandex slip-like dress, black lace garter with matching thong. Three inch heels complete the look that you prefer to see. You take me out and show me off on evenings that you play. I watch the buttons on your board slide beneath a loving touch- higher, slowly... higher still and wish that they were me. Upon return, you greet your world of bodiless make-believe. Janet dances for you while you push Mariah's swing, A slithering jewel beckons-Paula seeps with urgency then the stock market update brings you back to me. The garb I wore to please you- to strip away and tease you with remains on my own pretty frame. I search your face for a passionate clue, wait to hear some gentle words. I want my roving kiss returned and ache to slide beneath your touch higher, slowly...higher still- the thrill that you get from the music you make is a trip you don't take when you 'make love' to me. |
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