Silk, the Rose
Silk, the rose passed gently along my ache
where long dormant senses wake
every move you make most incredible
as whispered eyes move close to rest
Pain, you have lain too long
through the recesses of my time
Rewind, I have taken back my mind
as fingers glide towards the spine
worn down pages flipped over and
the hunger fades the blues
No sequels written, it is as if ...
satin slides the night
touches wont ignite
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2017
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