By Rhetoric Date: 2001 Dec 16 Comment on this Work [[2001.12.16.11.19.3653]] |
Perfect tone and build - physical prowess; my sky opens to harbor gusts from your storm. Next time I meet your fate, I will not waste an instant with playful jousts. grab and cup the head of hair twist and tilt so lips meet square lick and learn each ridge of mouth place moist on hard, from way south rock with rhythm 'til mornings dew in night dreams I pray for one day's true Your skin and hair frame a fit, too wondrous an apparition for mine eyes to resist. This craze that swells in each our souls, I save for you, no quick release unto another. sink and swim in words meant to disarm thoughts carve lust, stemmed from charm thrust and push one body to the wall flying high in ecstasy, no care to fall all I taste is warm and golden sweet another sun must pass again, so we meet my sky opens to harbor gusts from your storm this craze that swells in each our souls |