miyako73
05-16-2012, 01:56 AM
My sweetened voice, my begging
Between your moans, my gasps
On your thick palms, my fingers
Just below your pretending ears
By the wet collar of my dress,
Floral pink, unbuttoned, torn,
Are my shy words, the whispers
Staining bed sheets and pillows
Filling the walls, the plaster room
With heat warming you, my belly
And boiling the steam we speak,
You find on my welcoming bosom,
I taste on my lips, we perspire.
Your coltish tongue muffles mine
As if speaking is the gravest sin
You punish with what I desire,
With what you give, you crave
In your dream, in my stained bed
As vast as the sinuous universe
Of comets, of undulating waves,
Of the fireflies you dig, you bury
In my thighs owned by your limbs,
By your arms declaring I am yours
Which I have no will to protest,
No voice, no words in your ode
About a whore still not written.
Between your moans, my gasps
On your thick palms, my fingers
Just below your pretending ears
By the wet collar of my dress,
Floral pink, unbuttoned, torn,
Are my shy words, the whispers
Staining bed sheets and pillows
Filling the walls, the plaster room
With heat warming you, my belly
And boiling the steam we speak,
You find on my welcoming bosom,
I taste on my lips, we perspire.
Your coltish tongue muffles mine
As if speaking is the gravest sin
You punish with what I desire,
With what you give, you crave
In your dream, in my stained bed
As vast as the sinuous universe
Of comets, of undulating waves,
Of the fireflies you dig, you bury
In my thighs owned by your limbs,
By your arms declaring I am yours
Which I have no will to protest,
No voice, no words in your ode
About a whore still not written.