The place we used to hide in is no longer a secret, they have discovered it and known the secrets it kept. Our beautiful moments flew when adulterous wives brought their men in; the charcoal notes stood the test of time—to tell tales of our childhood indulgence.
I’ve waiting too long
To dance to my favorite song
Your breath of fresh nature scent
That drowns me in euphoric sexual vent
Your bosom a pair of miniature pillows
Is a vessel to the fantasies filling my hollows
With forget-me-not your tongue wrote on my lips
As I suffocated on the flesh of your yummy tits
The nib of my tongue wrote love notes on your nipples
And that was a night of ‘heartquakes’ and skin ripples
Pick the call please
your silence bites like fleas