Skin-Starved Skin [Poem] by Alison Miller

Skin-Starved Skin

He spoke of his nipple
poked into her mouth

and I remembered 
hers, perfectly pointed.

I didn’t run away with 
the girl with yellow nail polish

I didn’t even try 
but I’ll meet you at a motel


You come only 
in red and black

Like flannel shirts, ladybugs,

Alison Miller is a writer and sex educator. Alison’s poetry has been published in various literary magazines including Hobart Pulp, Anti-Heroin Chic, and Bareback Magazine. The owner of sex positive adult boutiques in Richmond, Virginia, she currently resides in San Diego.

Published by mistyrampart

Freelancer, poet, dreamer

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