PandoraGlitters
Sandy Survivor
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2007
- Posts
- 2,457
Week 7, Poem 1
Your hands have made me solid;
where I was vapor and aura now
firms to shore so that you can lay
anchor. Bite into my belly with its
toothy claim! Let the rope sing, sliding
on greased air as you fall on me,
sinking in to the grip that moors you,
welcoming all of your pirates ashore.
Your hands have made me solid;
where I was vapor and aura now
firms to shore so that you can lay
anchor. Bite into my belly with its
toothy claim! Let the rope sing, sliding
on greased air as you fall on me,
sinking in to the grip that moors you,
welcoming all of your pirates ashore.