Never Too Late!

Never Too Late!
any resemblance to anyone real or imaginary is mere bad luck
we are all lying in the gutter, but some of us are trying to get up


The prayer of one reminded by falling cherry blossoms of the taste of an absent lover.

A twinge of pain, my Lord

The merest twinge

Reminded by pink cherry blossoms swirling down under a dark breeze:

Her inner thigh

Curves up to a silky sweet moistness

Of pink lips and a deep, deep kiss.