He is her wax-sweet friend
watching her what she dreams,
telling her how to live
for he can fiddle time.
I would go mad for you,
blow through you like a wind
leaving your breast to moan
and lick your fluffy spring.
But she’s still one with him
who does the life so mean,
and there’s no man
to stop his cooling storm.
21-22.07.2003
Worship about void
© Copyright: Сергей Терешенков, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №104121500933
Свидетельство о публикации №104121500933
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