Ginny
by Jessica Cantrell
Tossled
mane
flowing back and forth
with the gigantic motion of her hips.
The
delicate dance that
swings and plays in my mind,
lures me into her.
Her.
Her swinging.
Her smell.
The
dance.
All the little idiosyncrasies,
I inhale.
I
take them to that point inside of me.
Then,
I kiss them.
Devour
her lips,
her cheeks,
her fairy tale on my tongue.