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A Decent Skin

Knute Skinner

Jul 01 2012

1 mins

“Oh him,” she laughed, “he’s a decent
skin, I suppose.”

She spoke as we left the party,
referring to one of the men
who had clustered around her.

I didn’t think much about it
as I drove her back to her house
and followed her into her kitchen
and up to her bed.
(As I did in those days.)

But I do think about it now.

I think of his decent skin as he moves his hands
and then as his groin stretches
and then as he eases his stomach
on top of hers.
 

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