XXXIV

i slipped my fingers into your scalp and they're dancing to ecstasy the hairs falling on like strands taking you to utopia of my fantasy i move further, to gather your eye-lashes to flutter with mine i rub my nose with smooth sensing white hill, i love of my kind i make of my lips an 'O' on your lips, to move back and fro i'm sucking the white unaware tissues, i'm running my curves of speaking provoking the seduction of mine and you the way your earbells rings to me the moment i feel them coming the way the stones of my mouth, bite it how incredibly i see your face beaming the swirl of my speak go into it, the domain of my lips, they exhale, and speak the backyard of senstivity, by my, got explored the loneliness of my being to you, i've no cure