"neighter" poems
Hearts, pound
Hands touch
Lips approach
To make a sound
Our tongs and our lips
Produce a warm melody
That make our cheeks
Dance to our heartbeats
A playfull, tasty kiss
Is Adored by some
But it is its sound
That I truely miss
A perfect scene
Pictured in my mind
Of two lovable beings
Wanting to be just one
Neighter of us is in it
Is merely a fantasy
A mischevious dream
I wish i could end it
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 12:10 AM UTC