Beyonce vs. Eurythmics Sweet dreams djs from mars
Succulent ripe
The silken slide
Down your thigh
My heated
Kiss trace
to your gardens
Sheltered place
Where petals
Heavy dew
Greet my tracing touch
Crying
The longing
of the succulent ripe
The rise
The call
The slow slide
The closed eyes
Announce
The rising light
Her "garden" shows up often in your poems. Who waters them so that they grow? hmmmm?
ReplyDelete