Hot Stuff Poem by Saul Palti

Hot Stuff



The sun rises from the east
my true love has hid
under the death of the stars
her coat is made of fur

across the moon lit meadow
underneath the black silk sky
my heart begins to bleed
i wait in lonesome need

destiny is our belief
hope is our fortitude
ad she comes close
to a pleasurable release

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success