on the list of things i loved most about her,
number one was everything about her.
number two was her eyes but number three
was her hips. i loved to grasp onto them,
kiss her protruding hipbones, hold them down
as her muscles contracted with release
and she writhed underneath me. i loved the way
her thighs would wrap around my waist
and her hips would squeeze me like a photograph
in an old lover's hand because we both
needed more friction. i could write poems
about how her hips fit with my lips and how
my lips tingled against her skin because 
when i was trying to be serious my god
was she tickle-ish, and i couldnt help but smile. 


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