So smooth,
it feels as if I am sticking my fingers in water,
when I reach out to it,
soft, too, yet not for too long
cool at first, then almost scalding,
stirring up heat as I stroke it
vibrating from within,
red at the tip, like a brewing volcano,
One wrong (or perhaps right ) touch
And it will spew lava,
Our universe orbits around it
As we grip it to keep it from slipping away,
So smooth, it takes all I have to keep hold of it
To make it do what I need,
What you, too, need it to do.
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