The ritual of the low sun
As sun rises low;
to raise you, my love!
The smell of you and
sweet curved arches of your hips
covered in bedsheets.
Caressed by the warmth of you,
your love cuddles me awake,
as you kiss me able,
to another low sun
a absence of us.
Selite:
Algerialaiselle tyllerölle kirjoitettu toinen runo.
oletus
- Kirjaudu tai rekisteröidy kommentoidaksesi
