The kiss

A Poem by ragtack

Lip color pink

Soft, warm

Inviting

like a peach hanging up on the tree

The first of the season

Picked in the warmth noonday sun

Quite

The anticipation

The hope

Tantalizing

The fulfillment flattering in gold

The sweetness lingers

Quiet want

For more

07/30/2005

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Added on July 26, 2012
Last Updated on July 26, 2012

Movement

Perhaps

Grassland