Mrs. When We're together, Ms. When She's AloneA Poem by Jose CamachoBeauty like Greta, Body like Monroe. She kisses my lips, Six times in a row. Her perfume so mesmerizing, Like the springtime flowers, Blooming up and rising. Mrs. When we’re together, Ms. When she’s alone, I wonder what she talks When I hear her on the phone. Perhaps “business?” Maybe Friends! When I come to ask, Her conversation ends. Out, we go together, Walking as a whole, But not without first putting on a mole. Six feet tall he stands, As if from a show. Right before my Greta, My darling love, Monroe. Doubts rush in my head, Perhaps they've been in bed? For I have heard my Greta, Yes, my love Monroe, Says She’s Mrs. When we’re together, And Ms. When she’s alone.
© 2013 Jose Camacho |
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Added on June 3, 2013 Last Updated on June 3, 2013 |