Category:
Poetry
Mere words somehow a touch it brings
While closing eyes to visions thought
In dreamlike state the soul does sing
Of haunting needs no longer fought
Perfect, gentle, strong and still
Like ripened roses thorn less stem
To reap rewards of passions till
A silent touch brought unto them
Caressing skin…a minds embrace
Desires of oneness weakness brought
Imagined fingers curves were traced
In wishful webs two souls were caught
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