By poetpas Life of a shower head
In the dry heat and Dust, long have I walked. I am Parched. She comes like one Long awaited, to My care is she sworn.
Which way I come, and Which way I go, you don’t know. Only my caress.
Dive in your waters Deepest, never will I sound Your depths; my love swims.
When I die, I pray It will be after I stow My luggage in my Private cabin, the Locomotive departs; I Slip into a dream.
My fingers trace your Sternum as I unbutton Your dress. You shiver. You ask me how long We have before they miss us. I ask