Scribblings & Photos by Damian Oxborough @ finishmysong.com
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Sketches of an Evening
Reluctant again to leave my side,
She lay there in the bed
She said was just for me.
* * *
Voyeurism dominated
Every minute of each hour –
I looked upon her breasts.
* * *
Like last time we ate,
Melancholy songs accompanied
The cooking of poultry.
* * *
We played games of chance
With seemingly high stakes
And I longed we’d win.
* * *
I scratched her back
As she requested
And felt her hot, moist skin.
* * *
We touched like aged lovers
With libido lost in past
But conducting the present.
* * *
Her ambition professed,
My desires were confessed
But her needs were not clear.
* * *
Stark nudism designed
An evening devoid of contact
Of a sexual nature.
She lay there in the bed
She said was just for me.
* * *
Voyeurism dominated
Every minute of each hour –
I looked upon her breasts.
* * *
Like last time we ate,
Melancholy songs accompanied
The cooking of poultry.
* * *
We played games of chance
With seemingly high stakes
And I longed we’d win.
* * *
I scratched her back
As she requested
And felt her hot, moist skin.
* * *
We touched like aged lovers
With libido lost in past
But conducting the present.
* * *
Her ambition professed,
My desires were confessed
But her needs were not clear.
* * *
Stark nudism designed
An evening devoid of contact
Of a sexual nature.
