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Worried Late, By: Andrew Cyr

February 5, 2024 by Andrew Cyr

Worried Late, By: Justin Cyr

I lifted my head and batted my lashes wide.
The depth of my bottomless gaze
had me unraveling a sleight of hand
connected to a jigsaw of twisted desires.
I was here in a cabin.
Rachel was here, too.
How’d I get here?
I wasn’t sure.
I reached across the bed to pull
her bangs behind her ear.
I wanted to study her face to ensure
her intentions were as good as mine.
Rachels sighed, cracked a smile,
and opened her eyes.
We awoke in a cabin
in the November weather.
How’d we get here?
Being the culprit,
Rachel confessed to surprising me
with a Thanksgiving for us,
and no one else to worry about
walking in on us,
having sex on the kitchen table,
or fucking our brains out by the fireplace.
And you, you said.
We both know you love to taste
my parted thighs.
I blushed hard.
Rachel mounted me like she’d won
a first-class flight to France.
So, we French-kissed to prepare
for her departure.
Rachel had no plans to leave
anywhere that she couldn’t ride me.
Thanksgiving just wasn’t the same
without random trips and only us to thank.

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