A woman at the height of ******
This is where the poem comes to a howl
And the poet, hold his breath
He remembered a long time ago
When her well pedicure feet caught his eyes
And not her mind..a fetish dish
She could have let him touch up her pedicure..instead of playing with her heart strings..
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 11:10 AM UTC
A woman at the height of ******
This is where the poem comes to a howl
And the poet, hold his breath
He remembered a long time ago
When her well pedicure feet caught his eyes
And not her mind..a fetish dish
She could have let him touch up her pedicure..instead of playing with her heart strings..
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