- Erotic Poetry
- Teardrop
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My teardrops sound like spunk dripping from her chin.
A dead memory of what once was and will never be again.
Her words silk poison in my ears as she packs
her bags and tries to forget I ever happened.
One day, even this will be tender, I know.
One day I will reap the winds I hate to sow.
But whatever it is in her heart she lacks
Her tapping steps endorse my pain.
And I forget which room I'm in.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousabout 16 years agoI really enjoyed your poetry. I think you have a talent for it. Would love to see what you can do with a less sad topic.
