Thursday, March 4, 2010

When I feel loved

The most intimate touch could not rival
Our love-making, wild and free
Yet sensual and sensible
Refined, but not practiced
Passionate but never reckless

But the grazing of my face
After a night of sweating,
Crying, and screaming
Cannot compare to the touch
Of you wiping my tears away

It is then, when ecstasy is
Rivaled by sadness that you
Brush away my pouring worries
And I know I truly must stay
In this moment, In this embrace
forever.

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