Fellatio
E
Eric Cockrell
0
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you took my soul
in your mouth and sucked
the colors from the last
leaves of autumn...
the snow from the night sky
before it touched the ground.
the sense of danger
from the little boy's heart,
before he climbed the tree.
the sadness from the body still,
in the casket no one dared touch.
the sound of crackling from the fire,
in the shelter of the cave...
the light from the dawn,
as if night holding on,
clinging to what has been!
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