November 3, 2007
Honeycomb hands,
soft and smooth as they come,
a girl who has them is never in the Doldrums,
she feels nakedness as she shanges in the night,
a back like a just poured on Mojave desert,
filled with ample fat,
spine curves like an ocean wave,
ripple tide of a well fed hermana,
clothed in a clean tee shirt,
known for her strong voice and soft hands,
but he heart, her spirit, her soul are tougher than a man's,
any where you see her,
you see her, you see her honeycomb hands.

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