what you do to me

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  • Yearning

    what you do to me

    I see you clearly sitting in front of me, I hear your voice your laughter in my ear as if I had headphones on and your voice was on CD. You touch my hand and caress my cheek you touch it has grown so familiar to me, it’s a touch I’ve felt so many times n my dreams. I close my eyes and breathe in deep as I exhale I felt your hands caress my neck and with that simple touch you took my breathe away. With each kiss, each time your lips touch my body a nervous relation comes over me with each breathe shivers rake down my spine like waves crashing at the parting between my legs. I look into your eyes, eyes I know so well a beautiful light brown . You lean into kiss me with lip, oh so luscious lips, that provide me with knowledge that your voice never could. I marvel at those lips and as they slowly descend upon mine you disappear leaving me wanting needing waiting.

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    MsUnrestricted’s Poems (6)

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