Hand-job

Mike Bell/ April 16, 2021/ www.mikebellpoems.com/ 0 comments

Soft fruits – shower-wet – a
pinned nipple – & colours?
A hint of peach – poor bath-
room light
[you said] – & all
I can do is examine you – In
my hand a virtual weigh of
guess-work [we have never
stood undressed in a place
where that is embraced] – I
travel across you without a
weight upon you – no push
of curling fingers into you –
no rub or lift of your hips – I
sit with your photo in hand

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