THE GENTLE PRESSURE
OF YOUR SOFT LIPS ON MINE,
FEELS LIKE A WISP OF WIND.
WAS IT REALLY THERE?

THE TASTE OF YOUR MOUTH
IS LIKE VERY FINE WINE
FRUIT OF THE VINE,
RIPENED BY THE SUN.

ITS FLAVOR LASTING
FOR ONLY A MOMENT
THEN THE FIRE RISES
IN MY HEATED VEINS

AND THE NEED TO
TASTE YOU AGAIN
AND AGAIN

IS SO STRONG,
THAT IF I DO NOT HAVE IT
I SHALL PERISH.





Penned by
~ Jeanne Brickman ~
USA
© copyright, 2003 (all rights reserved)