I then places my fingers inside of me. I imagined Matt taking off his shirt, kissing my breasts, taking them in his mouth. I pumped faster and faster,...and before I knew it my body was shivering, I was quietly panting for breath. How could thoughts of my brother make me think such thoughts? What had I become? I put my thong back on and tried to fall asleep. In about half an hour, I could feel myself dozing off, when I heard a moan from under the bed. It was Matthew. I figured he was just. Open poetry night was over. Leah is an amazing poet, at least I think so. I’m not into the typical angry/hurt emo style, nor the Olde English wanna-be with its flowery prose and words with pronunciations altered so they rhyme. Leah’s poetry is plain talk with cadence and some rhyming when it works into what she’s saying. It’s almost exclusively about her family life; prior problems with hubby, reconciliation, and kids. With each one her heart comes out through her words and is laid on the. More

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