By Butterfly
His hands Soft and gentle upon my body Like kisses from the wind. His lips, caressing my skin, pulling only moans from my lips. My body clings to him. My soul yearns for him. I call his name. And I awake Alone, Empty, But hopeful for the next dream. Written June 19th, 2001 © on Jan 09 2002 12:14 AM PST 18 • 0 • 8
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"His hands..."
Author:Butterfly
Source:AllPoetry
"His hands..." by Butterfly
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