A place to ponder over words that matter and matter not and let them disappear like ether in the evening air.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Your Kiss
Without a touch
You kiss my lips
In a beautiful garden
I feel your heat on my skin
The wind whispers poems
We are seldom two
Even though near we are far in sight
Your nature's kiss is my embrace
To the soul
My spirit
A gift
Of your Kiss
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