Buss Stop
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Your face, divinely wrapped with soft little bows that beckon
Plump, dew-dappled raspberries that purse the perfect pout
Cutely tapered chili peppers plucked in rain from love's intent
As your eyes close, I gently tug under your chin toward mine
Stray strands of your herbal tresses fall sweetly between us
As your succulent lips part to reveal a pulpy pink prize within
Oh such a savory press of mouths to pique passion's motive
Gods themselves would spend a moon's age imbibing ... so shall I!
~ 5th Place ~ in the "Kissing Contest" Poetry Contest, Bobby May, Judge & Sponsor.
* Merry Christmas! *
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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