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Gene Passehl

Just a Grasp

Some crisp & brittle
Sweet and neat
Taste in hats
Not quite forbidden
Juices flow beckoning
Smelling of ecstasy
Now oh so soft and tender
Like chills down your back
You always want more
Let the lips caress
Eyes cry in lust
For another touch
So...So...So undescribable
A love and lust to have
Hate and despise when you open your eyes
To see it...
Disappear
Then come the fear.