Whispered Foreplay
A whisper, is my lover's breath.
Molten silk I can't ignore,
steals soft along my waiting flesh.
Sets flame to a need for more.
A whisper, from my lover's lips.
a tease of passion promise.
Angelic prose it does eclipse.
To all else, oblivious.
A whisper, comes my lover's touch,
stolen and so illicit.
A butterfly wing, fleeting brush.
To my core I am torch lit.
Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2012
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