awaking india

awaking india


little wooden doll

you sleep

waking never to your need

for nourishment

though my breasts ache

insisting it is time


your sisters thrive

guzzling their fill

and still

i am full

for you


at the brink

i feel it

inevitable, unstoppable

an orgasm of love-making

my milk flow


into your wooden daze

spurting, spilling o’er our lips

as i express

my fluid warmth

into your expression




myself and seeking,

entrance to your rock

tipping, tilting, and entreating


just one drop

to wind its way into your cavern



until at last you gasp

you gulp, you gobble

and you grow

wiggly and warm

and fat and filled

with glee

a wonder child

for all who see

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