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Oct 2010
you were
                uoy
       erew f
                  i
                 r
                  s
                 tl
                    y an unbroken softness. of tight soil. and was i was
a seed first pushing into the smart crevice of your light
by which guided the water of my soul
            and nurtured the second flower of my heat. burning in the
snarling rapture of your trembling thighs
           between they
spouting a tyrant of imperfect friction
                   and i laid in the velour of your heaving
            breaths

                              and tickled

the slight arch of your spine
with errant lashings of my foolish mortal hand
           passive and boiling
under the searing fire
           of the delicious sensual crumbs
of your






                           ey  e   ,    s
PK Wakefield
Written by
PK Wakefield
798
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