Hurt's Prison
Your hands do not stimulate
me like your mind can
And yet, I feel your tender
touch
Gently caressed by your eyes
as laughter washes over me
I cannot be fragile in your
presence
You boldly tip me over,
revealing my insides of glass
used to reflect you
But intact my feelings will not
stay hidden
for just the thought of you
a smile breaks free from my heart.
Copyright © Christina Holmes | Year Posted 2014
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