I flashed invitations,
visited, and left
only a stain (at most)
on the body (at least)
of those who let me enter.
Then one day she came (the one I love)
and lay me down
(she was promise, she was spring)
and let me find (I cannot forget)
beneath her jeans (I cannot forget)
her tendrilled mound
of strawberry blonde
that tasted
and tastes of heaven.
And when I left (I was cold, I was winter)
she would not let me go,
but led me in
to her soft and rooted soul
that I might have
my own to give.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC
I flashed invitations,
visited, and left
only a stain (at most)
on the body (at least)
of those who let me enter.
Then one day she came (the one I love)
and lay me down
(she was promise, she was spring)
and let me find (I cannot forget)
beneath her jeans (I cannot forget)
her tendrilled mound
of strawberry blonde
that tasted
and tastes of heaven.
And when I left (I was cold, I was winter)
she would not let me go,
but led me in
to her soft and rooted soul
that I might have
my own to give.