2wo deep thighs of night
hold in their crest
my mouth to instantly linger
less than to leave
only
of lust which
to taste
i
(healthless droll and constantly)
am my lips
between secret folds
of darkness
hung with
a crisp shingle
of Spring light
(whom Shakespeare
might said, "A
star danced,
and under that wuz I born.")
tasting as to taste what flavor that
what tastes like sea on scorch'd flat.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 2:00 AM UTC
2wo deep thighs of night
hold in their crest
my mouth to instantly linger
less than to leave
only
of lust which
to taste
i
(healthless droll and constantly)
am my lips
between secret folds
of darkness
hung with
a crisp shingle
of Spring light
(whom Shakespeare
might said, "A
star danced,
and under that wuz I born.")
tasting as to taste what flavor that
what tastes like sea on scorch'd flat.
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