Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I miss the colors of your hair, The orange light above your bed. Tightly nestled to your breast I sleep the years away. The three weeks led by Sweetest Day, Your lips, our legs, the mood, Every inch of skin we trysted So delectable and smooth. We ordered in, you dined, I ate; My teeth nibbling on your hips. Nothing's more my favorite than When you're throttling the head. Three weeks we laid supine all day, Often rearranging the load. You watched Chicago Real World, While I suckled on your toes. That famous beast, they call desire, Rippled through your veins. You let out a little squeak And a drop of blood when you came. I can't forgo you for this long. I miss my beautiful little lamb I never would have guessed, That a ****** would want a one night stand.
0
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 1:46 AM UTC
Nothing Like The First Time
I miss the colors of your hair, The orange light above your bed. Tightly nestled to your breast I sleep the years away. The three weeks led by Sweetest Day, Your lips, our legs, the mood, Every inch of skin we trysted So delectable and smooth. We ordered in, you dined, I ate; My teeth nibbling on your hips. Nothing's more my favorite than When you're throttling the head. Three weeks we laid supine all day, Often rearranging the load. You watched Chicago Real World, While I suckled on your toes. That famous beast, they call desire, Rippled through your veins. You let out a little squeak And a drop of blood when you came. I can't forgo you for this long. I miss my beautiful little lamb I never would have guessed, That a ****** would want a one night stand.
martin-narrod
Written by
38/M/American
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 1:46 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem