Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2014
My cold hard bunk is warm
with thoughts of her pretty mouth
working its way south.

This warm grip of her hot image
gyrates into explosive measures
in barracks-silence.
Jonny Angel
Written by
Jonny Angel  GRB090423
(GRB090423)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems