My dove of myrrh, of spices, of honey and milk,
I press my fingers to your feathers
and slip inside of you,
becoming coated
with liquid myrrh,
my body becoming
coated
with liquid myrrh,
your liquid body
swallowing my breasts,
and stomach,
my thighs,
and neck,
and I feel your
lips upon my skin,
devouring me.

 

NaPoWriMo April 18

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