Thursday, March 19, 2009

At the coffee shop

Just another crazy poem, hehe... Sometimes you can't help but see scenes like this.


Her lush ebony strands of hair,
Stream down like lingering lust
Over a tight frame caressed by summer.
Her piercing eyes burn like ember,
Her rippling flesh struggles
Against tank tops and barbarians’ trousers—
White silken, flowing garments,
As thin as heathens' prayers.
She’s a bewitching happy face;
Like a mermaid’s midnight song.
An angel from the heavens,
In a sinner's thong.