nine

these embraces

have a way of transporting

and create a fog in

front of my eyes

everything becomes adrift

dreaming and seemingly

away and washing in this

wave upon wave rolling across a nerve

to start up making

me begin moving

first slowly for a

blink and wink

then the feel of breathing

then if I can

rise up enough

to meet your

lips with mine

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About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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