Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2016
I like to stroke your hair
till my hands get electric
free in between the echoes, desires
your touch so easy that
I start biting all the half truths
and stop dreaming about the other side
of the moon
your hot soles without breaks:
I feel like a woman
blessed with
love-days
irinia
Written by
irinia  where East meets West
(where East meets West)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems