Tag Archives: Michael Faudet

no magic formula…

Put your hands on my knees,
she said,
and think of me as a book you’ve been dying to read.

—Michael Faudet—

encore…

I love to watch you touch yourself,
on rainy afternoons.
The wandering hands.
The soft little moans.
Hips twitching.
Wet fingers fucking.
A solo show,
performed for one.

— Michael Faudet —

curious girl…

curious girl

She was a curious girl,
Who loved the smell
of old books,
chasing butterflies
and touching herself
under the covers.

— Michael Faudet —

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