Ginge

Tender realms within you,
make me nervous to subdue your confidence,
you bite your lip with such flair
confidence and hair.


The aim we take to ground,
fell the sun
(unworshipped),
carnivourous seed implantation sewed,
stupitidy or hummous.


Ginger Rodger's stare,
five fingers into folds,
suppose you know what's best
or we let it roll, a little.

My shoulders burnt in the sun and you pick at every freccle,
every single touch makes you stand out to me,
my slaved love gone,
yet you shout to eveyone;

Someone mentioned hummous right?