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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic



You pause momentarily
Plaiting your hair, think
Back to the night before
When even his words
Became almost physical,
Almost tangible, things
You could handle between
Fingers like beads of a rosary.

You smile, continue plaiting,
Feeling your fingers on hair,
Like his the night just gone,
The way his fingers moved
Through your hair, stroked
Your neck, and his lips
Brushing softly against
Your flesh, pressing on
Your lips, your throat,
Your cheek and how he
Opened you up to more
Of love than you had
Dreamed of even in your
Most passionate dreams.

You sigh, not from any
Disappointment, but
From the wanting of him
Again, the need of him near,
The feel of his body on yours,
The sound of his breathing
Mingling with your hot
Pleasurable moans, his blue
Eyes, his gaze, the love
Of him touching, reaching
Into your centre, into
The you of all your being.

You stand and stare
In the mirror, try to see
What he saw, what it was
That moved him so, what it
Is that keeps him returning,
The love of him entering you,
The deep love now burning.

Submitted: November 05, 2009

© Copyright 2022 dadio. All rights reserved.

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painting by Meyer von Bremen. poem by me & my Muse.

Thu, November 5th, 2009 8:15am

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