Poetry – Afterplay

Inhaling the scents
Of a still heaving body
Your perfumes of passion
Intangibly fan

Barely touching
Yet fully in touch
Every subtle caress
Bedabbles my senses
Like subtly stinging pins

A timid smile
As my hand moves down
The insecure flutter
Of subdued, consenting eyes

Your breathing falters
Upon my touching
The curve, softly so sensuous
Where your leg was made to stop
And your beauty never will

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