My cave. It
Is my sanctuary. Thousands of birds
Rest here and then fly away
None of them
Stay for long.
Wash underpants.
You glimpse the light of heaven from here
But no one rises to greet
The angel with transparent wings
No one cares
God's stumble at this moment
Dry underpants.
Parting in haste is too hasty,
Like in a winter market
With an empty stomach
Gnawing at a scallion
Scattered from a vegetable vendor's cart.
Change underpants.
-
Author:
VeryYrev (
Offline) - Published: September 28th, 2024 04:05
- Category: Erotic
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments1
You may be onto something
It's a mystery.
To many.
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