Panache
He wears a coat called 'panache'and, oh so easy on the eye
I spy, length of limb.
Today I am slim but
later, I would like to
take my fill, until
I feel a little fuller, perhaps?
We stir texture into our
newfound expectation,
my lips feel plumper somehow
and I like the way we fit
His voice speaks of late nights
coffee, whipped with cream
I should so like to sprinkle
the chocolate powder
and nip, while we sip.
Oh for these moments,
let us be unconfined.
I shall lie with élan
until we are
chic together.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2009-03-31 at 11:02
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