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POEM
Lick these lips rather
Get her taste brother
Feel her breasts' brush
Oh no, no don't rush
Peer under her long skirt
And see her ever-clean pant
It's colourful and has no vent.
Open widely your noses' doors
And let in her sweet odours
She is my mind's scribble
Though to Soul's-eye legible
She is Mister Feelings' painted form
Ha-a-ha-a she is a poem.
A piece from poetry collection 'When The Dust Has Settled' by Maxwell Mutami
Available from Amazon.com and Barnes & Nobles
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| excellent write, thank you.. |
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Comment by: bronzen - 2007-08-13 18:46
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| very good write....intriquing |
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Comment by: roy - 2007-04-20 00:07
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A thinkers poem, good write, Maxwell, I have been reading your bio, interesting life you have lead. Looking forward to reading more of your work.
Thanks for te read,
ROy |
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Comment by: solaris - 2007-03-11 07:09
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| smart write. a new angle, new eyes - like how it appeals to the senses. *thumbs up* |
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| I agree that this is a great piece. I loved the flow and the way it made me feel delicate and appreciated as a woman...thank you! |
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