A word for the sake of it
A page for nothing.
The word so old we break it
lost in our fear and loathing.
My tongue meets your soul
your pleasure is mine.
My thrusts inside your filled molds
Bring sweet recovery divine.
10/10/14
Poet
A word for the sake of it
A page for nothing.
The word so old we break it
lost in our fear and loathing.
My tongue meets your soul
your pleasure is mine.
My thrusts inside your filled molds
Bring sweet recovery divine.
10/10/14