"Momma's Worry" by TS Hawkins

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[an FB status via poem]

run fingers through flesh/making pathways to all orifices/letting taste buds tell stories that great grands will regale in the epic present co-signing history with scents/feasting on sinew syntax/having index and four digits crack codes/dipping memories in pools of passion/salivating greed in second platters/thighs tell no lies when dining by candlelight...

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