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“Don’t put your clothes on?”

It’s a question, but I’m saying.

But I’m pleading,

as you bend down.

Muscles flexing;

only hanging  in the right places.

Everything else tight.


“Don’t go, I’m begging”

Crouching on the edge of the bed.

I’m hanging, but in all the wrong places,

like on.

You step left,

I move left.

The same with the right.

I’m stuck.

Like a tiger in its cage.

But I’m nothing but a kitten to you,

when you’re around.

Snap is the sound of your underwear

Snap as your fingers call me

Snap and you’re gone.

<p>Author <a href=”https://plus.google.com/102128103971030481396” target=”blank” rel=”author”>Jerome Cornelius</a></p>


Comments on: "Control (a poem)" (1)

  1. leehippie said:

    Wow… 🙂

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