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donnarkevic: a poem

Few Days Late

I keep it to myself

and Loretta. Her father

beats her

in places hidden

to the naked eye,

but I see

when she strips

down to panties,

lays next to me,

her kiss on my blush,

her eek

when my cold toes

pirouette up

her welted leg

a little

too far.

I went

out with this guy

31 days ago,

wanted to feel


without talk,

my tongue a head-

stone in his mouth,

he digging for the truth

about me,

and now Loretta knows, feels betrayed like Jesus

in the garden

where friends

wake up

way after

the cock crows.

A retired teacher, donnarkevic spends time with his wife and nine grandbabies.

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