Such lovely hands
You pretty thing! -
And finger blessed
With telling ring
To scoff at me
That you are wed! -
What lucky man
Might share a bed
Upon the nights
When lust abounds
And he in rhythm
O'er your mounds.
"If that were true
My cheeks would flush, "
She cooed in answer,
Then to gush
In wantonness -
Her consummation
Drought aware
That I now tout
To ply repair …
Desire replete
Her smile of eyes
Assured our secret
Bears disguise.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem