When I am on fire
I’d like my clothes off
I sit by the window
where bird songs
cool me.
If I were a tree
the birds would come
rest in my hair
chatter so much
I’d forget my sorrow.
When squirrels creep
between my legs
stroke my nipples
with their fleecy tails
forget I crave a man.
Yes, when my heart swells
with grief, there is always a bird
that can, with the touch
of its beak,
crack me open.
i have the bird that can with the touch
of its beak, crack you open.
i need some pictures of yours to see how hot u get when u wrote the peom!
Posted by: jhp at October 3, 2004 08:29 AMVery sensual, beautiful and honest. I loved it
Posted by: Naghmeh at January 21, 2006 01:25 PM