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A fog on glass
translucent skin
presses the surface
cooling the flesh
as droplets cascade
the subtle curves.
Tumescent shapes
emerge in the shiver
as steam whirls away
in a breathless twirl.
Long shadowy forms
appear and withdraw,
a rhythm in the mist
as clouds gather - disperse
in quickening gasps,
the liquid echoes, moans
reaching, reaching and then
finally a release
the dampness suddenly calm.
Fingertips slide
down shower doors
with a whispered, "Yes."
Indeed, this is a gorgeous piece. If the images weren't vivid and right on, it wouldn't be as hot. Steamy, even.
LeBroz reminded the reader to breathe while reading this poem. I understand exactly what he meant (at least, I think so). What gorgeousness. What a feel. What a moment. What sounds. What images. This poem is lush language. Thank you for sharing.
This poem has been selected for listing in Wednesday's New Poems Review.<br>
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