Wednesday, December 26, 2012


As I put my hand between her thighs
Hormones would arise
To my surprise
She replies
In moans and sighs
Drips and cries
As if it sympathize
Yearns for my touch to realize
Awakened and energize
Surrounded by beautiful skies
Circled by birds, bees, and flies
Stalked by perverted spies
Peeping Toms and weird guys
I caution wandering eyes
To come near us is not wise
A technique to cause scatter like bee hives
She smells sweet as ginger
Middle and index bring her
Sharp feelings that sting her
From her belly through heart ting her
Impulsions I bring her
Footsteps overheard by the one who linger
I scared him off by asking
"Do you want to smell my finger?"

(Charcoal painting courtesy of Michael C. Rodriguez)

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