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Click hereI can feel the howl
of your harp
calling me home,
slung low in my belly.
I wanna cradle your wail,
rock it in my arms,
a sweet sung baby,
pure angel cry.
Tease me, piper,
with that call—
I respond
with honey dripping legs
that crumble at your feet,
lost in the smoky sound of you.
You know I will follow you
anywhere.
Love or Lust?
What'll it be?
Does it matter since the effect of either
Is the same on the opposite sex.
ahhh, the pied piper syndrome, painted very well in this literary creation.