The Game.A Poem by Ben Lingemann
He slides under her skin
He plays with her heart watching it slowly beat watching her chest slowly rise and lower Feeling her goose bumps rise against his searching fingers this is his game and she is but a player with everything to lose © 2011 Ben LingemannAuthor's Note
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Added on March 7, 2011 Last Updated on March 7, 2011 Author
Ben LingemannJunction City, CAAboutSmall-town. Taken. Scrabble amateur. My poetry is started by my heart but then is beaten and abused by my brain, I generally think it shows. I write for myself, I always have and will continue regard.. more..Writing
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