Tuesday, August 14, 2012

The Rush of You




Not with brush of eager fingers
Nor caress against my face
No sense of cooling body lingers
No across-the-room embrace
Not the rush of two lips meeting
Or the warmth of skin on skin
Oh darling, there is no competing
Flesh on flesh cannot begin
To satisfy me like the knowing
That no matter where we are
Miles are merely spaces flowing
You are never very far

Janet Martin~


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