Not Lost in France

Poetry



Summer Night.

Her
soft down
covering the secret
passage
that led to
unexplored
liquid bliss,
sweet kisses
that brought
me back to life,
her hands
caressing
what my body
had to offer
and
the
thought
of
yet
another
sleepless
night.

David English © June 2008.


Tasting.

The way we
lay
naked as
truth,
holding
the shadows
that caressed
our bodies,
fingers
seeking to reveal
the pleasures
within.
Torturing the unknown
elements
that screamed to be
released,
your lips
on mine
hungry for your
taste
and the night
on
bended knees
begging
us
to
stop.

David English © June 2008.

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