Not a sonnet
My lover's eyes are nothing like the sun,
two silver moons I'd them prefer to call
her voice is not as soft as catlike purr
but more of a snake that curls in silk.
My lover's hair is not golden waves,
but dark unruly like a panther's fur,
I like to bite her velvet shoulder blades
Enjoying hearing wild roar.
© Copyright: Бесс Брайт, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121030107351
Свидетельство о публикации №121030107351
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