A mistress to the highest degree… A flirt even to the likes of me… Legs for as long as the eyes can see… Refined just enough for that cup of tea. Oh, what am I talking about? She’s a girl so far away… Only contacted from a distance… I can’t even see her face today… Communication is as limited like an allowance. We speak candidly about being together… We speak wildly about times that have been… My jokes of her wearing leather… And her curses were enough to qualify as sin. She’s ever so sweet to be my friend… She’s ever so sweet to be here with me… She’d stay put until the end… And I’d show her all I could be.
This is the archive of previous writings of the Opiated Sherpa. It's mostly poetry that dates back to 1997, back when I was a sapling of 16. And then since then... this.