Which Ones Do I Hold To Me
Those young women do not leave me lost.
Most comfortable still
are their coming and leaving.
I dip my whiskers into their still sensual froth
dab my lips with their parting kisses.
Such is an old man’s tipple
the sweet nipple of much younger days
when taste buds had not waned
of such furious passions,
Wearied am I not, yet mellowed now
within a warmer heart.
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