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washing-up

13 Sep
washing-up

Her pale hand catches my eye as fingers encircle wrist push the sleeve up.
Muscles move beneath the skin as her arm twists.

Fingers of the other hand manacle her other wrist and slowly reveal the pale downy french curves of her

forearm

Muscles and tendons secretly shape it like a thigh exposed when a skirt is lifted

.

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Posted by on 13 September, 2010 in POEMS

 

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