His touch was like electricity
Waking me up with each brush of his fingers;
It's kind of like I long for it,
Because once it's there, even slightly, it lingers.
His eyes are the color
Of freshly melted chocolate;
The very color that makes me wonder
'What my fate?'
His hands are
Somewhat large;
Able to fit over mine
But, when they touch me, give a charge.
His scent
Is so alluring;
I love his smell,
It's so intoxicating.
His lips are soft,
And feel so good;
Against mine,
And better than food.
No matter where I look,
The ground below, the sky above;
A sigh escapes my lips
At this unattainable love.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry From A Broken Mind
RandomThis is the fragmented crap spewing from an overly creative mind. My muddled past and pain will show through...the words I could never say out loud. I apologize if you ever don't like a poem, but it is a part of me and I don't try to make the comfor...
