Blood encrusted lips
and white marble hips
attached to a petite statuette,
forehead dampened with sweat.
Bodies move in sync
after one or two drinks
hands dying to touch,
fingers reach out to clutch
at the clothes painted on our skin.
Oh, how lucky I had been.
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 2:47 PM UTC
Blood encrusted lips
and white marble hips
attached to a petite statuette,
forehead dampened with sweat.
Bodies move in sync
after one or two drinks
hands dying to touch,
fingers reach out to clutch
at the clothes painted on our skin.
Oh, how lucky I had been.
Another old poem.
