IMAGE IS LOADING, PLS BE PATIENT.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
When all that was real was mangled and distraught,
we had our thighs and lips all tangled in a knot.
Sweet slippery loving, your sonnet danced on my chest.
On october afternoons, you divested me all bare;
on sheets aged many years all smelling stale in air.
Your fingers, they were telling of the barren of my belly.
Our swaying passion was left so unbridled;
when years ago i fled at the face of my rival.
But now, my pretty hands do pretty things when pretty times arise.
and sweet-smelling limbs fold around where I lie.
Once we were callow, all bending and breaking
now, in whispers and moans, we're trembling and shaking.
Oh softly now, you furrow your brow,
my tender touch cures it even up till now.
Tashah so melodramatic la. Stop it eh?
Saturday, May 19, 2007
