Can’t have you but want you.
Bathing in dreams of possibilities.
Hands touch your hips, lips touch lips.
Eyes, hair, scent; heart connection meant
to be.
Fate shouts yes, no, maybe.
Joins yet demands we keep our distance.
Heart touches heart, carefully, timidly.
Fear be damned; heart connection meant
to be.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
My inner poet begs to be set free. Some of these musings are old, some are new; some observed, others lived. Enjoy.
No comments:
Post a Comment