Playful Fingers… Poem by Mark Heathcote
Playful Fingers…
He kisses me like a caterpillar
curling in a sun-aroused-flower
so playful is his desire, his ardour
my carpel wishes are to enclose
around that wincing thorn of pleasure
to entrap alone his stamens tongue
amidst the sepal-hips of my thighs
now to cocoon, locked, playful fingers
and petal wings together.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/24/2024 7:49:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
