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Losing something
Anticipation left me breathless
as she stalked me, cat-like.
Teasing me with evil eyes
reflecting only casual interest.
Silk ripped with her laughter,
never serious,
and hinted with her scent.
Crawled along the carpets' brilliant red,
cradling my innocence,
arching as she went.
Leaving our marks upon one another,
tattooing lips both eager and unloved,
the gentleness of thighs frightening
once passion subsides.
She held me in my raging sense of pride,
beneath me now with all her power tamed.
I recall I smiled... the little mouse had roared,
then scurried home, momentous and ashamed.
by Stephen Hirons
Read the story behind this poem
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