My lover plays on the lute.
It is his melody,
the melody of romance.
The breeze gently touches my lips.
I opened my blouse,
like a little thief
the breeze gently touches
my nipples and breasts.
My lover,
my lute player
come, come to me.
I cannot wait anymore.
Come and play on my body,
play with your finger
in my secret cave,
wait for the little river
that generates in your touch,
then penetrate me
to lead me to heaven.
(graphic: Roman saved to Картины
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Художник Gary Benfield (167 работ)Pinterest)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
such a sexy poetry loved by mostly Westernly all gals love sexiness openly go and see they love kissing mostly then some fingering then wetting as one is @40 u know it