the morning after
The sun shimmers off her curly light brown hair
Her eyes now shut in slumber, nothing could compare
Her lips the color of blood from just underneath the skin
I could sit for hours and hours just watching her angelic face
Her breasts sit up perfect, not too big and not too small
I love to kiss her while she sleeps, her breath a metronome
Her perfect flat white stomach, where I rest my head
Perfectly curved female hips, Aprhrodite while in bed
I sometimes think of what she dreams, is it just of me?
Does she dream of childhood, when she was just three
Whichever or whatever, I know her love is true
True as it can ever be, true as Eeyore blue
We soon will be married, two becoming one
With that come some problems, lots of indoor fun
Take my hand, walk with me, across the planet earth
We are what is meant to be, to concieve of three small births
2007-09-28
04:14:03
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10 answers
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asked by
The Dark Prince
3
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry