the last night in paris

When she entered the store today

I was reminded of that last night in Paris

Of the woman at the party

Who wore a sheer kimono unbound

In shades of peach and gold

It clung to her form

Sweat dampening the silk

In the heat that never eased

I wanted to bury my mouth against her throat

To move lower still to taste her moistest lips

But then I could not do as I did

Watch her tiny breasts quiver

Rose-hued nipples forming mountains

Growing ever steeper

The next day as I sat on the plane

I dreamed of those peaks


~ by justmorgan on August 5, 2012.

2 Responses to “the last night in paris”

  1. i love this

  2. It is sad to leave Paris, but life does go on. Well done! Perhaps you might enjoy the poem I posted last Saturday? 🙂

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