A Mattress in September

My baby – she don’t lie to me. My baby – she don’t try; no, she will only lightly smile and mouth some soft denial before telling me the truth. And when my baby sing the blues, it rattles fillings in my teeth. And when she asks me what’s the use I lose another night of sleep wishing to be pinned beneath her sinning body. When my baby swears she wants me – what more could I wish for?

(Well, there’s many things to wish for – like one more morning sorely coming back to life together on a mattress in September)

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~ by perfectionatrix on August 2, 2012.

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