kfg moore

.:. poetry by kfg moore

Textures

Wombs dry up and wither,
But still the quiver of vaginal desire,
Trembles liquid around the questing male,
Or so I'm told.
But old and wrinkled, post-glacial folds,
Raise eyebrows, more than eyelids,
And have the penetration, 
Of a blunt instrument.
 
© kfg moore jan 2002