To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
Price of Passion His warm touch still lingers on skin chilled with loneliness. His strong, calloused fingers burned with their gentleness. When morning vomiting ceases, his lips’ sweetness still remains. Fear’s icy grip releases with memory’s warm rains. Memories are sharp and clear with all the heat and fire of his naked body pressing near and her answering desire. Gentle fingers traced searing lines that burned within her breast, releasing tides from cool confines with surging waves to crest. Drowned in primal passion masquerading as love’s first taste, she swells past current fashion as reality is feebly faced. The clean smell of the clinic brings fresh bile to rise, as she fights thoughts of a cynic while looking thru teen age eyes. |
Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged!