My dreams are of lips <br />the softness that sips <br />the tongue's liquid flow <br />as desires then grow <br />and fill open ears <br />with whispers and fears <br />that trickle and fill <br />the half-subdued will. <br /> <br />The llama may lick <br />and his fur rub and stick <br />on electrified skin <br />and my welter within <br />but his breath cannot dry <br />the blood in my eye <br />both the two that watch you <br />and the third that sees true - <br />the one on my head - <br />and the one that's outspread. <br /> <br />LRH <br />7.23.06 <br /> <br />Inspired by and a reply to Gershon's 'Soft and Satin Furred'<br /><br />Linda Hepner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/llama-dreams/
