by Martini
we stood in the doorway
his hands on my waist
the clock tickling loudly
almost in haste
he moved in closer
his eyes locked in mine
I long for his kiss
For just a moment in time
his lips meet mine
and I feel the sensation
no longer must I wait
to give into the sweet temptation
my knees go weak
my palms become sweaty
I go back to that place
I have been so many times already
the world disappears
all that's left is him and I
and as we pull away
I feel as though I could fly
I Have this Garden of Poems
at first and then carried away with my greenthumb i planted everything trees and more trees and shrubs and bamboos and vines and hanging plants almost everything and so the blooming flowers died and the grasses diminishing like some hair of this baldness but nothing is lost in this garden of poems the birds came and built their nests some are still coming every morning and then the chirping begins |
This Kiss
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