So many flowers, so short the season!
Your gorgeous smile, you are eighteen;
The nature consummates your features,
Your eyes are fresh in mild wind.
The Spring. You fear almost nothing;
Your mind is eager to explore
Beyond the deapths of moral boundaries;
Here you find sex... and you want more...
The pain, that finally enthrolls,
The pearls of passion on your belly...
The strike of guilt, both are contrite...
Erotic dreams that bother daily...
Profligacy - your sin and pleasure,
The first touch of your virgin skin;
It is so tender and so thin,
It promises angelic leasure.
Your braid undone, he is benign;
You melt on fields of pink roses;
Your rain prolongs the life of Spring
While he steps into milk-warm waters!
Colors of Sex II Pink
© Copyright: Sing, 2001
Свидетельство о публикации №101012900377
Свидетельство о публикации №101012900377
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