Poetry (words)


I think about kissing you and how the earth would fall away with your touch. How my body rose to meet your lips, your breath bringing life to my skin. Those times where I was lost, tethered to the ceiling, bound by passion.  

Where love making started with a word, a whisper. Never predictable never by demand.  


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s