I am that tender place. 
That spot which rises to your touch.
That stroke and each soft kiss ignites.

It's where you are.
An imagined caress and warm embrace.
With fleeting glance which sees so much.

A pore deep cup.
Each tongue tip's graze on palest skin.
A sigh released which barely meets your face.

A word which haunts.
Recalled in times of gripping need.
Soft spoken lines which spill across your lap.

A cool white gauze.
Obscuring glare and soothing heat.
A screen giving shade and cooling space.

I draw you close.
Yielding now our needs are met.
In time, now spent, you tumble at my feet.

womaninbliss womaninbliss
51-55, F
8 Responses Jul 25, 2010

Erm, I would comment but there's suddenly 'something' urgent I need to go do!


I'd forgotten all about this story ... or rather little poem ...

Sorry to bother you I wanted to send you a message.... thomaswm wanted me to contact you...I'm unable as we aren't in the same circle, please send me a PM so I can pass you the information.

Thank you AAL and Marji.

what a nice idea southernman ... you would be welcome.

Lovely, Makes me want to lay down next to you, lay my head upon your bosom and be in peace

LOL @ DC ... smelling salts ... a case of the vapours ... haha

LOL! You should have warned me to bring the smelling salts before reading this one! I love your sense of poetry WiB. You wrap words around a subject like gossamer garments. Nicely done!