HIS MOUTH
by Cheri Anne

a breathtaking infusion,
of force and firmness,
soft and slow,
awakening an ache,
and coaxing it to grow,
saturating heated skin,
with moisture,
made along my curves,
savoring escaping sounds,
tasting tender nerves,
a trail of gasoline,
left by the wetness of his tongue,
setting me aflame,
in the soft valley of my chest,
heaving to keep still,
beneath wherever,
his ready lips are pressed.
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About Cheri Anne:
Born in Boston, MA and raised in Savannah, GA, Cheri Anne’s speech is
divided as well as every other aspect of her outlook. As a trolley
tour guide by day and student/writer by night, her super powers tend
to be most drained. She’s never really understood “courtesy” or
“hospitality” anyway. She lives a double life shrouded by science and
mapped pamphlets where she can only think in verse. She has been
published by TUCK magazine as the first contributor to be published
under both categories within the same issue, and by Pill Hill Press,
Wicked East Press, and Danse Macabre du Jour magazine.