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Click hereMy skin it prickles, tingles and glows
As memories creep in
Of not
So long ago
Fire burns while heating my blood
Thinking of times
I've fitted to you
Like a hand to glove
Men are drawn like a moth to flame
Yet walk away knowing
Their touch will be lame
My heads been turned
But not so far
That another’s touch
Can soothe those scars
I whisper your name
While in my bed,
A testament to your talents
As fantasies continue
To circle my head
I want to see you
To feel your touch
But it still scares me to death
To admit
and hunger this much
I stay away
While wanting to tempt
To drive you as crazy
As when I’m pinned to the bed
More competent hands
I long for with dread
For the day draws nearer
When I resist no more
And invite you to bed.
You show a certain maturation here compared to your earlier work. Many who write at Lit do so for a brief period and show no change or growth in their style; you've shown both here and I look forward to seeing continued growth in your skills as a poet.
Even my skin prickles, tingles and glows after reading your beautiful poem.