all is up.
a dreamy boy fills your legs
with such a torso-
he acts like your tongue is hard candy-
and the crust in your eyes is cinnamon.
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Tickle your toes. . .
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take flight in linen and lace. things will mesh if you want them to. just throw yourself up against it and maneuver dainty fingers over tiny...
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It's not the pen It is the ink But it is the dishes and not the sink and it's never in your eye but in your wink it's just froze...
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everything on my desk is blue. plus my shirt and my fingernails too- because I am here without you.
Poets United Contributor
well....gooooood morning indeed. a very graceful description of such an intimate moment, thanks for writing
ReplyDeleteLol...
ReplyDeleteYour dreamy boy is getting all blushed out here. He knows he doesn't compare to the foxy fantasy lady he has in his hands right now.
ReplyDeleteLOL...wow.
ReplyDeletemmm...perfect. delicious little piece!
ReplyDelete:)
ReplyDelete