My Pornography

The relish in her grin

as she tore off bits of bread

and tossed them to the bickering geese,

while we talked,

was my drug of choice.

And that tiniest gap,

between her hip and the waist of her jeans,

that fell open then closed, open then closed,

as we walked,

was my pornography.

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Author: therealkenjones

writer, artist, wannabe photographer, recovering Southern Californian...

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