Take these words
and mold them 'neath
the heat
of your wandering hands
I give them to you
like a lover gives
of herself
take me
Press them to your lips
and whisper softly
so they fall unfettered
upon the sunwarmed skin
of my shoulder
And I
will gather them up
and cradle them against
my heart
4 comments:
Lovely, Mary!
:-) Thank you...I keep pluggin' along...
This is quite lovely.
thank you, mike...always good to hear from you.
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