Press play and let the music wash over you as you read if you are on a laptop.Salute.As the leaves dripped silvery tendrils of warm invitationsof pleasure upon my hot brow.I looked around as she moved around restlessly.Not realizing I was awake.That beautiful figure I once spied in the Deep South whilst visiting Little Rock.Her quaint smile as our eyes once met over a hot cup of coffeeat Starbucks.I watched her take in my form slowly.I always thought.This woman before me has such power.I remember her saying.If you want me to be yours,be under that lamp post over there at midnight as the world sleeps,and we’ll meet.I don’t normally do this,but your luscious lips look like they were made by theAlmighty to be kissed.Well, here she comes.She tastes like the nectar of the gods,Skin is still so soft; it’s incredible.Well, that was yesteryear. I brought her home to Pinetown.Next to Queensburgh by the Umbolo River.My hut, my lands and my friends in the forestswere her to command but a strange sensationStill haunts me.I feel she wants the keys to my golden Hondaas if the old world, she once lived withinWants to see her.Do I let her goAs she straddles meI know the answerAs our lips meetI know not what the future may bringBut I know thisMy soul was claimed by that first exquisite kissUnder that lamp post in the Deep SouthBy the girl with the golden guitarWho ventured so far
Wednesday, May 20, 2020
Do you remember me?
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