Watching from afar

Mirth and joy flutter in my heart and my fingertips remember the softness of intimacies of embraces of the past. It is a gift to be so close, welcomed in, invited into a fierce tenderness outlasting granite and steel. Longingly I dare to imagine the quivering moment when submitting lips push back in earnest exploration. How smooth your skin must be, my mouth pleads for license to meander down the slopes of your neck as a love-drunk poet in a blossoming orchard, stopping occasionally to fully explore the tiniest of flowers.


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