What My Little Man Gives

What My Little Man Gives

What My Little Man Gives

The boy that I call “My Little Man”
Is ever so skilled when it comes to his hand
Calloused and rough, but yet moving still
He rubs me the right way and all is tranquil

Not one for talk, but work as he may
My spirits he lifts after work becomes play
Sound off the joy when our bodies caress
It’s merry to hear the noise of finesse

Touching so gentle and never to grab
He takes me to love and never to stab
After we’re finished, it still isn’t through
My pulse throbs tingle and I think that I flew

Floating down like a feather, I feel I can wing
That thing we call life, yes, I’ll get in the ring
Ready to take on that brutal fighter
Boxing my way to make things much lighter

This content is protected. No reproduction allowed without my written consent.

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About bognetta

Love has been so much more powerful than other people's control. I think it's all love, but sometimes it doesn't feel like love. That is because so many people are defensive, protective, and do not care to trust in that four letter word...love!
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