My Unguilty Pleasure

She is the strangest sort of beautiful.

The oddest breeze of fresh air.

She caresses my lungs.

Softly, loving,

She is my winged pleasure. My adaptation to this world. 

I am so fortunate to seek shelter in her bosom. 

My gorgeous creature,

Unbeknownst to many.

But I know.

The simplicity in her everything,

the way her hips graciously bear me.

Birth my tongue repeatedly,

She is my breeze of fresh air.

My whisp of hope. 

And I love her.


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