A Steam-Pressed Mess

A broken hair erects into view.                                                             Displaying my secret place has always been so hard to do.

Kissed lips mean nothing but touches,                                                                but they hold more meaning, they hold a purpose.                             Whiskered mouths search for hormonal relief,                                             but without caring hands, it all means nothing.

So with this theory, I purse my lips                                                                      to wait patiently until I find his.

The End

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