tagNon-Erotic PoetryI souhaitent qu'i fût son oreiller

I souhaitent qu'i fût son oreiller


My love rests his head on me,
His hot lips caress the cotton softness of my skin,
inhaling the fresh outdoors scent from my hair.

My body conforms to the pressure of his head,
sinking into the rose petal cushion of my soul.
I am the perfect size for his arms.

Yearning hands reach for me in the night,
Hold me close
He uses me only for his comfort
I never resist

thanks for reading my stuff,. now please go vote :p and feed back is welcome

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byNebula33© 0 comments/ 3012 views/ 0 favorites

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