![]() |
untitled poem
hmm.
untitled Oceans poking upon thy chest, pounding to caress, what's drowing deep inside will not confess, as it submerges, only to manifest so bleakly, dreams that undress urges sending ripples upon thy breast... For this tart, succumb, and her unwillingness, garners to splash through, gaurded undergarments, if only a couple of twists, but neither a domestic swim, would quench their loneliness. -LP |
wow, your vocabulary in this poem was great, this had a lot of layers to it, pretty deep too, your words made me think, i enjoyed it, keep em coming...1
|
thanx for the feedback, yeah i'll keep them coming as soon as i get one of those URGES, as for layers there's a few, mainly two, one about a bottle (a beer bottle to be exact HINT: "chest" can be cooler chest?? or chest as referred to breasts) and/or a girl. At most it's about a "sexual" addiction to one of the two if not both, and not being able fulfill that void. Because I am a drunkard poet.
But then again everyone has their own interpretations. peace. LP |
All times are GMT -4. The time now is 03:13 PM. |