Star Struck At The Taj Mahal Poem by Jennifer Verkuilen
Star Struck At The Taj Mahal
Star Struck at the Taj Mahal
He handed me his number
Said give me a call
A Brummie with magic curls
He wants a coke and brandy girl
He smelled of Bourbon and Mahogany
A fine quality
She sucked the whiskey from his lips
It affected the rhythm of his hips
With each angry thrust
Bodies quiver with sinful lust
Saturday, February 19, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: lust,magic
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8/29/2026 8:41:50 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
