Sparks in your finger tips,
Melodies on your tongue,
warmth
Fire hooks down in my core
As chills run down my back,
Your hand on my skin
Radiating,
Absorbing,
Pulling you in close again
Dull is washing out,
Lonely is long gone,
Fear dissipates every day.
I could heal on my own
But you make the medicine much sweeter
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem