deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Chase
Well-used hands caress tender flesh.
Gentle strokes glide along a silken dress.
Soft whimpers escape a lush-lipped prison.
So entered the desire which is forbidden.
Gentle strokes glide along a silken dress.
Soft whimpers escape a lush-lipped prison.
So entered the desire which is forbidden.
Published 27th Jul 2015
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Anonymous
27th Jul 2015 7:43am
"Well used hands caress tender flesh." It sounds forbiden indeed, but evokes secret desires.
27th Jul 2015 9:33am
28th Jul 2015 3:47am
Soft whimpers escape a lush-lipped prison <----eloquently lyrical....enough to wrap an entire new poem around.....
