I unbuckle her jaded black Jacket.
by Pradeep Dhavakumar
And lift from drapes of crimson Velvet.
With Eyes of a watchful Guard on duty,
I ogle at this naked man-made beauty.
Face so puerile, petite and pretty
Queen goddess in my music city.
Neck so long, smooth and slender.
My fingers only knows its splendor.
Crown of Silver and Ivory she wears
Domineers the gentle flow of her hair
Metal Cascade from her ebony cheeks
Is asundred into six long creeks
Hairless voluptuous body so smooth.
Naughty Moon beams often peep to soothe.
A titillating tatoo at her navel.
Forces my one hand never to avel.
With her hips locked between my thighs
And tress covered with my finger highs
Eyes tightly closed, I pluck and play
And she mourns with heavenly bliss and gay
Not time for Carcassi, Giuliani or Sor.
This is our very own private hour.
Sans words we sing, sans feet we dance
Making our very own Ebony Romance.