Lesson 63

Love replicates itself in touch:
my hand on yours, our lips on each,
and against bare sheets bare skin finds home,
within and without: love replicates itself

in touch. May I make the mistake of yearning
for flesh when so soon the two
bodies have left each other in wanting,
now waiting,
for time to turn their bodies loose on each other
again?




Poetry by Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2025-02-25 at 08:08

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Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
So well observed, Sameen. The crux of the matter is that there is, as your last line infers, never enough time. No going back to those heady days of hedonism, only the now where the woes of the World consume us instead of passion. However, I appreciate your lesson. :o)
Blessings, Allen
2025-02-26