Introverted Pleasure

Silence calls me to it’s comfortable closed doors

And the coffee stains remind me

Of the beating rain on my window

That I used to rest my head on

And a teetering novel on my weakening fingers

Just spilling the coffee sitting between my thighs

Where I used to sit crosslegged on my strong bed

That caught me whenever I used to topple over

When the heroine blushed for her hero

Little did they know

I was having the time of my life.

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