To A Love, That Day

Bragging of the sensual,
one being
Brags of her misery,
untold to none
Hating here bridges,
gaps in breasts
Holding her bitter tongue,
Not until,
I gasp and envy at here sensual,
Touch that is caressed,
She glides,
A smile to tickle my brain,
Is this not ,
Great i sigh,
The sensual one being told
I smiled a smile a country clown,
Would command,
She bites and haunts,
The idiot wind,
And blames her bragging
On to many hours at the waist
She brags of her misery,
I hold tongues,
At this sensual one being
Copyright@BradleyHeenan2011