Tag poems about passion
His lips reminded me of a match,
the way they ignited something in me
when they collided with mine.
The way his fingertips reminded me
of a cold winter breeze
the way they ignited something in me
when they collided with mine.
The way his fingertips reminded me
of a cold winter breeze
Silken sheets on sweated skin
Soft sighs torn from slicked lips.
Watching, waiting,
Tempted, taken,
Anticipation building and threatening
To take over.
Through the windowpane she sees
Two as one.
Needing to write herself in the story,
Not yet done.
Soft sighs torn from slicked lips.
Watching, waiting,
Tempted, taken,
Anticipation building and threatening
To take over.
Through the windowpane she sees
Two as one.
Needing to write herself in the story,
Not yet done.
