Still It Is Fresh. Poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Still It Is Fresh.
You have been in use.
Your lips are a sucked one,
The breasts a cupped one,
The nape a smelt one,
The thighs a kneaded one
And the part a pierced one.
I don’t mind; you are fresh to me.
I read books read by others.
11.06.2007
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: books
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8/25/2026 2:33:52 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
