Friday, January 5, 2007

1-7-07: Kiss

There is a time for us.

There is a time for us.

Fingers making dimples on skin

naked backs, beginning sin

Our bodies are lines, we do converge

to the sweetest place

a breathless space.

You sigh and tremble.

I use my mouth to hunt your grin

and close my eyes against the spin.

I love the way it makes us race.

We find new skin and curves to trace.

On dance floors, bedrooms, a front porch,

heat enough to start a torch

This is what I think of, wherever she might sit…

soft small lips

athletic hips

It's not a thing I'm ashamed to admit.

7 comments:

pokerspice said...

Love it! I could picture it perfectly!

Just Expressing Myself said...

I like your poem.
It has substance.
I also could picture it perfectly.
Take care,
Frances

Michelle said...

Dance floors are my personal favorite. I loved your poem.

Inconsequential said...

Cool poem

'beginning sin'

:)

Janie Hickok Siess, Esq. said...

Very clever.

Crafty Green Poet said...

Beginning sin....
Excellent

GoGo said...

Nice job. I'm interested in reading more.