it was that snowy night
where everything is quiet
and all that is illuminating
is moonlightno stars sparkling above
but as the snow falls down on us
like a mistletoe hanging up
we kissed
YOU ARE READING
Parfume: Smells of Pleasure
PoetryHer moans of pleasure is like the sweet voice of the nightingale.
still
it was that snowy night
where everything is quiet
and all that is illuminating
is moonlightno stars sparkling above
but as the snow falls down on us
like a mistletoe hanging up
we kissed