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Among my socks
I found her slip
A few dark hairs
didn't wash away
I picked one
with tweezers
and held it
against the light
I watched it a while
It was born
to cover the
temple of lust
the marshmallow
of temptation
it also works fine
as a decoration
It died in the
fury of combat
for the sake of
evolution
and the platform
for others to grow
I bowed my head
and buried it
in the third case
of my wallet

Hi Monday ~

AT 1:11 PM, you posted an erotic and tender poem.


~ Lizzy

Well, thanks, though I still think that "Marshmallow of Temptation" sounds a bit odd. And socks are not erotic, are they ?

they are if thats all shes wearing while shes toasting the marsmallows in front of
the fire of temptation...................

jimbo

The socks aren't [unless Jimbo's scenario holds], but what you reverently did with her hair is... finding it, examining it in the light, your thoughts surrounding it, and burying it safely inside your wallet for keeping.


~ Lizzy