With Our Wine Dipped Lips
With our wine dipped lips Your pink and red Curvature, warm form That as shaped these Arms paired in time Lustful still, the glare Of these twined reflections Of soul knowing eyes This giggling act of Old fools young That is you And I, twirling desire Dropping, sinking Into howling folds Igniting flames, rolling Poetry of Raby, Scottish Carpet of Burns Sign in to see full entry.