Her feet dance like ink across
Shakespeare’s paper.
Her eyes like notes in a mozart symphony,
And her voice like a lustful melody.
And her lips like a delicacy in chefs mastery.
Her touch like steam in a roman bathory.
And her taste?
Like the apple eve ate.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Her feet dance like ink across
Shakespeare’s paper.
Her eyes like notes in a mozart symphony,
And her voice like a lustful melody.
And her lips like a delicacy in chefs mastery.
Her touch like steam in a roman bathory.
And her taste?
Like the apple eve ate.
