Tina
Tina Chockalott button eyes open like a soft sun rise, moonshine reflects In her silky black curled hair With gentle finger tips I trace her olive skinned complexion her gypsy soul melding direction Like the breeze of a ghost, they slide over neck and breast, I resist, wrestling desire, searing purple flames I alone must tame. My loins twist With the eye of the artist I admire this living cameo broach, embossed on her silky white pillow Mediterranean beauty sweet sincerity my signora Tina Sign in to see full entry.