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Warm Command

MB Blissett

Having dominion

Over myself

Speaking to you

In the language

Of warm command

Undressed and skin

Glowing with anticipation

Oh how my hands shake

With appetite,

Sharks hunt the oceans

With less intent

Than I touch you

My touch

My kiss

Instruments of

Coercive skill

Because I intend

To convince you

To fall from heaven

In damp, wanton surrender

Dragged into the ocean

Of delight where pleasure

Runs through your veins

And all that

You

Know

Is

Me

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