They look good in any light.
Especially in wavering candle flame
After a long uneventful day
The taste of rich red wine long in my mouth.
Full in their flesh
Nipples sturdy and offering.
Like tractor beams
They pull hard at my desire.
There is mote that I can do
But be drawn to their
Steady rising and falling
Like a nursing baby.
They look even more exceptional
In the unfocused light of morning.
Their soft domestic splendor
Gives me cause
To say a small prayer
( At times, I find myself being very religious )
A few words
In celebration
To have lived through another night.
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