Stampede

Runaway horses, my fingers are

Cruising around your body as plains

They brought mine thoughts,

my senses

Dancing hands, parading fingers

 

Dance to your spirted rithm

Dance my hands and fingers

Better yet gallop through out

your body

Your naked flesh as tuned as

fresh essence

 

And the cavalcade stops not

Restless keeps and entertains

The rest of the spirited herd

Of your runaway orgasms, that is

 

©Carlos di Paulo Zozaya

 

 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s