The unworthiness of the word
In display when it is mixed
The scent it says when it touches
The skin from behind the soft
Curves where the cross hangs
Heavens are between the cleave
The aroma that I leave on you
You say I bite my arm more often
But the scent of my presence
Leaves you not and friends wonder
The shine in your eyes show
You have stolen a bite on your neck
Or let us smell her bosom for his musk
27/1/2009
Sadiqullah Khan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/slow-the-love-musk/
