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POEM - MY LITTLE PARAMOUR Behind Mahogany bench pews, my number 26 Hair as black as coal in the New Moon ...Eyes blacker still Behind those windows, those shimmering orbs, an invitation to pour myself into your goblet And me, for you to take your fill. We step through this awkward dance, separated by years and circumstance You, so completely unspoiled Me, a jaded fool intoxicated by your virgin mind Oh my number 26, I think we both know the outcome of this summer's plot, your pale yellow skin I can almost taste, Unfettered, we, by inhibitions and the rules of society we leave behind, My little paramour, it's only a matter of time.  | |
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Is this about that basketball player?  ~~~~~ Oh that voice...incredible....there should be a musical instrument called George Michael... ~~~~~ | |
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tinaz said: Is this about that basketball player?
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