Touch

byThe_Manoj_Arora©

TOUCH


Your finger, caressing, burning
stroking the underside of my breast
igniting foreign feelings I left
bottled up on dusty inner shelves.
Aflame, in secret places,
with you imprinted on me
I turn to dust, in your arms,
and fly away and away
feathery as spindrift.

-The Manoj Arora.

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