Black
In the
softness of those shoulders
I brush my
face, I lean my back,
I slide
along so scared but bolder,
More into
this black, black, black.
In the
sweetness of this mouth
I fall
asleep, my thoughts I stack.
But then my
lips would tell out loud
About my
love in black, black, black.
In the
soothing colour of this cheek,
I would
melt and hide aback.
And my
hands would other pair seek,
For I miss
my black, black, black.
P.S. As a memory of somebody from the past.
P.S. As a memory of somebody from the past.
