The rhythm of her life is such
That others cannot comprehend.
And words drip from her tongue
Like the juice from a ripe peach
Lingering in the fragrant air til
They are washed away by the
Liquid laughter of a woman child
With eyes forged in the fires of Pele.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of SocialCO Media, LLC or True NudistsThat others cannot comprehend.
And words drip from her tongue
Like the juice from a ripe peach
Lingering in the fragrant air til
They are washed away by the
Liquid laughter of a woman child
With eyes forged in the fires of Pele.
