Between her legs, she was patchouli: earthy and musky smell,
sweet yet smoky, a balance of sweetness and romance—
and for the rest of the night, I tasted her tanginess.
We men never stop for women
we are always on the move going somewhere else:
on to our next conquest,
a tighter squeeze,
a new adventure—
Our heads staring at the noon sun
like the breasts of a virgin at fifteen.
My book, Flights of Poetic Fancy, has been released today. Get your copy today on CreateSpace. Click Here. ________________________________ Flights of Poetic Fancy is