Dirty Scattered Memories

Poem By Diantha Gray

A feather flows
upon the breeze
bringing with it,
scattered memories

Reminds me how
you used to please
with head and hands
between my knees

That feather flows,
I drift some more
How hot you were,
hard to ignore

I cannot help
but to yearn for
You worked it like
a well taught whore

I watch that feather,
and how it sways
brings me back
to our better days

Didn't know your hips,
could move in ways
that could make me want
to give you praise

Now I watch that feather
as it hits the ground
Just as it should,
without a sound

Softly, gently,
seems I have found
How to make
a feather pound ;)

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