Monday, January 11, 2010

First Touch

Like the first taste of wine on my lips;
The sun in my eyes after clouds and rain.
The prick of the needle before it enters a vein;
shocking and pleasing,
sweat beading in circles on feverish skin
Nothing post has it's power, or provokes more
It sizzles, and everything else is bland;
The first and slightest touch from your hand,
You own me.

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