When I fear I’ve run out of things to write,

I get pulled into your searching gaze

And realize I could never depict the true essence of your being,

The intricacies of your soul,

The depth of your past sadness,

The height of your ever building passion,

The fortress of your love,

The caress of your hand,

Your kiss against my skin.

For every rendition would still leave me

Wishing, lusting, longing for one more night.

–Written by Sandy Heights

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close