Cornsilk
Soft, oh so very soft
as gentle to the touch
as a warm breeze
on a cool cheek.
I caress it
soft and lovingly,
damp but not.
I place my face to it,
aroma declares paradise.
Query soft?
Exquisitely fine
as a gosling’s down.
Sensual tactile
delight.
Long ago,
so delectably yielding.
Still acute,
my longing
cannot abate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem