An inner thigh kiss; the stamp that
Seals the envelope of your
moan
While fingers rim along
the edge
Of your flap.
The last remaining butterflies;
Without doubt are licked & sealed
Along with the contents
of your bottom lip
Sealed & licked continuously
along the ridges
Until the envelope is too wet
To be mailed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem