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Posted to Poetry




White Ambition



Spinning
Spinning
Spinning
In the swift air she stands base.

With e-long-ated arms
Soft, soft limbs
With each turn-turn-turn

her Naked Sculpted muscles form
Rigid Swan Lake rocks

and that Thick
auburn hair slashes her face often
Slightly
Turn
Turn
Turn

In the white light her face softens
Like the little ballerina of days past
Tracing the pastel ballet slippers stenciled
On her bedroom walls.

In the Lime-light
Distanced in the air of all her own
A carnivore beast
She Spins, Spins, Spins
As those familiar clean manly hands
Grasp her thighs
Constricting
The heat of the moment.