Lust on My Pillow

I used to sleep with my Mom, words...

We used to dance and clap every night

Twice and more everyday

It was lust on my pillow, I say...

I thought of nothing else but

Flying by the wind blow

Though I hearts for one or more ladies

I say... it was lust on my pillow

I was tanned

My blanket was tucked tightly

But I chose to break it by my wave

Cause I had lust on my pillow... said

 (Ane Rai; Poetry; Monday, April, 2016)