Polka-dot Pillow

Bliss tickles my red polish toe

The night before ensues on my fingertip; to my lips I delightfully place.

Hmm.. the subtle taste of deceit and defeat holds my tongue.

No matter, pleasure is all mine, this morning.

Entranced with lids closed, my eyes mimic the scene…

Moisture thickens, and my bare thighs chill

My back stiffens to reveal the burgundy scratches that mark my shoulder blades

A cold yellow towel, I wipe down my face.

Black mascara blotched spots and violet eyeshadow, paint

I rinse and wring.. behind my neck I place..my glare whistles from the mirror

A tender, raised smile shines back

Erect and high… I return to the lipsticked-stained, pink, polka-dot pillow, that eagerly awaits my muffled high-pitched shrieks.

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