Nicole Zeien | Balloon

Hot air tickles

skin, as you blow right through. Rising

to occasion, offering pleasure, impatiently waiting,

fiddling all the way. Expanding, ideal in size, transforming

before fervent eyes. Almost ready to burst, you grope

at my response, whine in anticipation. Reaching

my limit, I tense, strain. Can’t hold

back so I pop, and spew

forth it all.

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