Oh yes, it has to be sweet almond oil, <br />a touch of cyanide perhaps for extra thrill? <br />I'll leave the motherland behind, on foreign soil <br />my hands are in demand, a secret skill. <br />Please let me take these off, but one by one <br />I'll fold them neatly, sure, we'll let them rest, <br />those golden rays you see are from the sun <br />as they encircle areolas on your chest. <br />To start I trickle a small measure on your skin, <br />and happy fingers glide through valleys and through hills, <br />a tiny smile now occupies your scrumptious chin <br />as almond fragrance smoothes out and even fills <br />small pores and blemishes, I know and love the lot <br />there is so much of you, and running out would be <br />an interruption to your pleasure, would it not <br />which does not fit and does not tally right with me. <br />I have a tub filled with this oil and there is more <br />my hands are strong and would not tire with the task. <br />If it's okay, my sweet I'll tend to every pore <br />and you can come but you don't ever have to ask.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/almond-oil/
