She Is A Fallen Angel Poem by skillz thapoet

she used to be my friday
night call,
in skirts and dresses a flight
landing to my door,
stockings that rose from the
toes,
and disappeared into her
inner thighs,
tops and blouses with no
underlying bra,
was hard avoiding to stare,
her lips lucious,
her eyes close to pure,
her hair an indian
touch...glossy,
flying in the wind, soft to my
feel,
we used to play fight in bed,
working fingers over her
warm flesh,
and tongue to her craving,
after a leak of juices,
and a down pour of sweat
we lay in smiles,
and i would watch her sleep,
feeling her take breath,
and her heart rythmical
beats,
warmth below white linen,
nothing angel-like beneath,
but two bodies garment-less,
and she was a maiden so
sweet,
from her lips to the fountain
between her thighs,
in moans and laughter,
to kisses stolen in the
streets,
and she was an angel on
earth,
a fair damsel that did sail
with me,
but she was from my rib
not,
but another mans' treasure,
and now he captains' her
moves,
in his castle she lives,
in his bed she lies,
drowning in tears and a torn
heart,
in black eyes and a broken
nose,
babies filling,
and another yet to come,
but i pity her less,
but move on my way,
to a destiny set..