This is a poem, a tribute to the girl I loved and lost. She
was a Filipina girl who adored having her softness eaten when
she woke in the morning and our joke was that she was my breakfast,
in Tagalog almusal. It's called "Filipina
Almusal" Almusal breakfast Flower softness

Filipina Almusal.

Pink and moist and hot and tight,
Debauched by pleasures of the night,
Framed by belly, hips and thighs,
Topped by those most dangerous eyes,
Desired by many, played by few,
Im no more to be played by you,
The greatest prize in true loves power,
Possession of my loved ones flower.


My tongue has been there many times,
To trace out those delicious lines,
Anus, septum, softness wall,
My tongue has dallied on them all,
Your labia and pubic mound,
That I so carefully shaved around,
And beneath that monkish cowl,
Awaiting eagerly my tongues prowl,
Avid, lusting, lewd, licentious,
My darling, your voluptuous personal placeoris,


No more my tongue will trace that path,
And in your sweet juice take a bath,
But I remember every lick,
And suck and blow and other trick,
And in my mind I wander back,
And journey down that long lost track,
Forget ? regret? I never shall,
My Filipina Almusal.

Bob.