Windowsill Madness Poem by Thomas Case
Windowsill Madness
Rating: ★5.0
She tastes like
a sunset and
smells like peaches...
succulent,
soft.
Moonlight breaks fast on our
windowsill madness, while
passion kisses us in
the white-hot heat.
Her vagina is a
stranger, strangling me.
Medusa turns men to stone,
and I'm rock hard,
three floors up.
When I explode,
I'm
like a butterfly
floating into the sun.
Sunday, August 11, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: love,passion
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5/11/2024 7:14:20 PM # 1.0.0.1119
