I have nothing to say.
Yet I have to say so much that squeezing you,
Smothering in the fresh lime of your shampooed hair,
Slithering my hands down your virgin waist made for me,
Gently playing with your firm young breasts gasping for my touch,
Would never suffice,
The quiver of your lips,
The shiver of your spine,
The warmth of your flesh,
When your feline form devours me Devine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem