StickingA Poem by Steph CrandallSoft yet firm hands caress the smooth shaft. Gentle grip, but still
sturdy. Fluid movements in perfect motion flow poetically, hypnotizing me. Rough exterior: beaten up, marked, creates such beauty. Everyone has their own rhythm. Up, down, up, down. The slightest movement of the wrist causes a euphoria of sound. You finish covered in sweat. sticking is hard work. © 2011 Steph CrandallAuthor's Note
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Added on June 4, 2011 Last Updated on June 4, 2011 Author
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