I'm a little brain dead; it's 3:30am. So here is another short poem:
The Dark Corner
The Wine Maiden
on this jazz laden night
squeezes
luscious grapes
with ruby lips
letting dew drops drip
Upon me
sweet breasts
pressed firmly
against faint skin.
The Dark Corner
The Wine Maiden
on this jazz laden night
squeezes
luscious grapes
with ruby lips
letting dew drops drip
Upon me
sweet breasts
pressed firmly
against faint skin.