and now, sweet…
I am taking this feeling –
this ghost of your lips –
to feather my dreams
to light my soft slow breaths
and this insistence, sweet…
I am gathering this touch –
this flutter of your ethereal fingertips –
to dance my swelling sighs
to cry my wishes crystal
and then, sweet…
I am drawing this flow –
this brush and ken of your body on mine –
to fire and twist and gleam and lift my vision
to stroke and stir each hanging gasp
and this tightening, sweet…
I am spinning this pulse –
this crashing keen whisper of your voice –
to tumble my groaning pant and howl
to sink my throbbing fantasy
and now this sweet then fading
this ghost of your lips
on mine
