as sane as ever
passion-poetry-process
Three stars
In constallations colors flash befor me I tremble from inside
Mysetery collides with time
Dropped in my lap the luxury
I had touched
Long fingers no fair down there the rush the deep touch
Blossoms in tender frames
Healed by pleasure
That remains
Unchanged
Solitary satisfaction
Complains
Newer Post
Older Post
Home