Catch of breath
touch of velvet
all is lost
blind and groping
until your touch
I cannot care
about the price of this
the precious cream
running under my fingers
is all I know
Come what may
in morning light
to touch you
is worth death


© W.R.R. 6/27/1994

About W.R.R.

Bipolar & survivor of incest/child sex abuse and adult male rape; bisexual, polyamorist, poet/writer/advocate & married father of four. View all posts by W.R.R.

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