Poem -
Whispers

I often find my inner fire calling out to you..
i'd never tell a soul because they'd only want it too..
my lips want to utter "come hear", but they can not make a sound..
your body language speaks volumes,
what was once lost, now I've found..
whoever said the art of love had gone so long ago?
Your touch remains on my skin and because of you I know...
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Comments
SM...love this poem! Very sensual. Yes, it takes a master with that special stroke...a master who knows every line and curve of your body and how to ignite it...and those touches that linger...the ones that penetrate under your skin...it is a mark...a brand...an invisible tat...you just can't wait to be touched their again.
val