The Kiss ...
By Mouse Poet
The Mood. The night was young and the moon stood slightly over the horizion, yielding the night sky to the dancers of old. A warm soft breeze caressed our shoulders, sending a wave of relaxation through the depths of our souls. The Moment. Then we danced by the moonlight, letting our spirits fly high into the air and sounding out our joyous laughter. And when the music faded and our dance came to an end, we stood still peering deep into the other's eyes, wondering if this was real. The Kiss... Written December 14th, 2001 © on Dec 14 2001 01:32 PM PST 18 • 0 • 8
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"The Mood...."