The morning light
crawls across my face,
caressing it like a gentle kiss.
Thoughts of you overwhelm my mind
leaving me in tangles.
I find your message on my phone.
A poem.
As I read,
I bask in the warmth
of your prose,
being bathed in its beauty.
Though the words are not for me,
the desire wells inside me
to be the muse to your art,
to shape your imagination
in the form of my body.
How I long to touch your face.
For your fingers to softly graze
my cheek as your gaze
slowly suffocates me.
To feel the pressure
of your mouth
against mine until
my every thought
is reduced to ash
from the fire
that engulfs me.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.05 seconds at 11:41am on Nov 05, 2024 via server WEBX1.