Poem. Voyeur. Katie Lewington.

The moment
when the cold didn’t feel the same and the light crept low, voyeur
   slithers across the floor from the sun set outside the window
wet flaccid lips brushed against by flesh
flesh that was dry, could almost feel the bone
               washed in white foam juices taken from the bush
for him to devour and enjoy 

K.L 2016  ©

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Author: Idontwearahat.

Katie is a published poet, reader and reviewer.

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