He continues to explore poetry, writing his second attempt with much hope. After thinking about what to write, nothing but beautiful scenes appeared in my head. It will surely get rougher in future, but bear with the gentleness for now.
Each plot I came up with seems to unfold easier when I write in short. A lot of redundant details are left to imagination, but a new paragraph comes when the scene changes. It is truly an eye opener to think from a different view.
The orange sun,
shone upon her naked self.
Bringing light, to the dark,
but unseen by anyone else, only by touch.
A little flick on those pinky tips,
raised her chest with grassy air.
The very first,
for all her life.
A little flick between the slender thighs,
sent her squealing in delight.
The first tongue to ever taste,
gave her the softest feel on her naked mind.
A little flick on the delicate clit,
twitched her waist left and right.
Weathered fingers, rub her fast,
Weathered prints, rub her well.
A little twitch on her legs,
made her pretty toes, curl in aches.
Deep breaths filled her worthy lungs,
and exhaled an air of sexy groans.
The little death, greeted her,
the very first, by a foreign hand.
A fully grown length pleasured her,
mounted in packs of five, on either hand.
A little flick on her geesus spot,
sank her hips, into the silky sheets.
The untrained mind,
Sweaty palms, never stopped,
pumping bliss, into the warmest slot.
The little death, a new friend made,
with less unsure, and more in need.
Do it again, said the yearning voice,
a bigger death, draw her breaths.