I wish I was her golden hair;
Falling past her breasts.
I wish i was a crown to wear,
Tall and sleek, standing over pretty thoughts,
Sleeping quietly around her pulsing neck.
I wish I was her golden hair;
I would whisper nighttime feelings, sing stories of quiet desire.
I could feel her fingers running over me, warming to the tip.
Light and sweet I could linger
Twisted on her slender finger.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment