spit on my lip

big lips,

morning pasta,

both the aftermath of a bra-less night,

warm thighs, a brief insight,

I want the attention,

to feed my new dimension,

taste a finger in my mouth,

and feel everything south,

this little abode, where good love hit the highest note.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s