Poezja

Fluorescent and creamy
‘Twas the fabric that was her skin
With lecherous taunts she told me
“All this and more could be yours.”
I gasp in profound sighs as gradually
I inundate beneath naughty theories
Upon your lips
first was a peak of interest
alluring for sharp strokes of passion
a moan here, a groan there
as a theatrical climax infuses