
Tanka XLI
“I’m not through”, she said,
wanky wind smothering tense
tensed up by lured lips.
“I want you”, all my ears picked.
Now, acts belittle words retched.
’20:09:29:17:52
Note: Of lanky love.
Life leads to many directions, ancestral trail leads you to the progenitors.

Tanka XLI
“I’m not through”, she said,
wanky wind smothering tense
tensed up by lured lips.
“I want you”, all my ears picked.
Now, acts belittle words retched.
’20:09:29:17:52
Note: Of lanky love.