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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Longing
She winces,
Unused to the pleasures
Of my tongue;
She quivers,
Overwhelmed,
But begging I’m not yet done.
Unused to the pleasures
Of my tongue;
She quivers,
Overwhelmed,
But begging I’m not yet done.
Published 11th May 2022
Author's Note
An immature attempt at a very brief, sensual piece.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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13th May 2022 6:25am
