He true her
on the bad
graping her boountyfull
beasts
shucking on each
erect nibble
tore off
her nicknacks
enflamabled by the slight
of her public hair
'Talk thirty to me! '
she hollowed for the 29th time.
She tuc hiss private
member
in both her wands
winking wildly
then she entered him
into her wet can't
'Oh I love your hot
posse! '
he pursued
his general election
throbbed
an avalanche
a landslide.
'Oh comb...comb! '
she yellowed
in honey tomes
he combed
& he combed
kissing her hare
& dare
his tong now in her
ear now in her rear
he was all over her
like a rush.
'Hush...hush! '
she shushed.
They layed together
like snow turning slowly
...to slush.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem