Nine Poem by Andrew Kennedy

Nine

Rating: 5.0


I press my hips,
to yours searching.
A brush of skin,
of cheeks mingling.
Your eyes wide,
as I tend to a motion.
The continuing motion,
of bodies embraced.

A stroke of your collar,
as hair cascades your shoulders.
And sheets wrapped to relish,
serenade our warm spines.
I may no longer breathe,
without breathing you.

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Andrew Kennedy

Andrew Kennedy

Kitchener, Ontario, Canada
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