Saturday, September 24, 2022

She moved (a poem)

Her designer jeans
looked designed for her.
The fabric moved with every move
of her body and moved me.











So I made my move
and although her boyfriend
told me to move it,
she moved me again
by winking at me
in a most moving way.

Unfortunately we lost touch
when she moved.
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Want to read (more of) my short stories? My author page: Terrence Weijnschenk at Amazon
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