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He had hands of burnished mahogany-

kept that palm lodged round my throat;

digits piercing skin, leaving my veins prickling.

 

You did it for the burn, sudden power rush,

and oh, how I just loved to watch your eyes darken.

 

You held me, propped my body between

sheet cuffs, sending me right over the edge,

that sweet kiss of death lingering on my tongue.

 

But you- the selfishness you possessed;

would cut it off before I could taste it.

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