Affair
P Pradip Chattopadhyay
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A time was when
Nothing short of my deepest thrust
Once and then many times more
Would satiate me
Then quietly crept between us
The hiatus
When I learned new ways to play
Chanced on a week a golden day
Then over a month or more
I had found the key to the secret door.
Now at the most heightened end of the affair
Satiates me a strand of her hair!
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş