Thursday, March 26, 2015


Like feathers hanging from an angel's wing,

Like thick soft strands on a stallion's skin,

His hair hangs heavy on my breasts, 

Covering my face and mouth and tongue, 

We're never sure whose hair we're kissing on,

And his hands are guided to my pleasure,
The right movement and rhythm traveling my body,

And I kiss the boy because I can't do anything else,

To look into your beach eyes and not kiss your lips, 

I don't think either of us are capable of that, 

A kiss that holds on my tongue spreading my cheeks,

A kiss that stretches our faces forming one desire,

My tongue lingers between your lips,

Moving up your neck and spine I kiss your mind,

You bleed light through your smile and envelop me,

You call out my name and I'm disposed to call yours,

Sweet dancer and composer of tantric symphonies, 

Play my body for hunger hurts the fanciful mind,

And a goose like me does not let go of one of its kind.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.