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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 28, 2016

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Submitted: May 28, 2016



Susie holds me close,
whispers in my ear,
Polly ain't you cold
with your arms
outside the blankets,
put them inside,
hug me closer.

I want George to hug,
not her,
his arms about me,
not her clutching me
in her desperate way,
his lips on mine,
not her wet lips
dribbling on my shoulder.

What you want me
so close for?
I say,
just get off to sleep,
and don't slobber on me.

But she hugs me closer,
her breath on my ear
whispering, Come on,
Polly, keep me warm,
I'm cold with the draft
from the attic windows
that don't meet properly,
Susie moans.

I put my arms inside,
put my arms about
her waist(skinny mare),
and think of George
stuck in some
hospital somewhere,
damaged by the War's
shock and blast,
and heads blown past,
and eyes sitting staring
on their own,
and wounded men's moan.

What you thinking of?
Susie says, sniffing
my breasts.

The War, and the Somme,
and Master George away,
hurt in mind they say.

Susie nods her head,
but wants me huddled nearer,
holds me close,
touches me, and says,
Shame about war,
and loss, and pain,
then she kisses
my neck again.

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