All will end you say for we are doomed
Silently and irrevocably our hands will part
Hoping that I would let you swim in the mud
Vague desires invading your disquieted soul
And I serene strong earthy will know
That your soft hand needs mine
How else would I get my tea?
mardi, novembre 29, 2011
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Caressing fingertips
Rosy hips
Parted lips
She sips
Traces an ellipse
around the rim
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