Late Sunday Night

Standard
I walk hand in hand with you
Through the garden of fresh desire
Love blooming like red rose petals usher in spring
The sweet fragrance of our (late) night air

Droplets of silver rain gently trickle down
Your soft palms melt into mine
The thirst of a fortnight quenched 
In one passionate smooch
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43 responses »

  1. I can’t stop saying it. You are just so good with words! They seem to lift one into another world. I feel the sweet fragrance. Or am I hearing it? Maybe I can even see it. You are a master of poetry or is it a mistress? I just know that you are an authority! :)
    Good work!

  2. Coucou Boomie, comme toujours, j’apprécie beaucoup ce que tu écris même si je ne commente pas souvent, surtout ces derniers temps.
    C’est toujours agréable de venir sur ton blog.
    J’ai encore lu de jolies choses aujourd’hui, que ce soit sur cette page où d’autres.

    Je te fais des bisous.

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