Our Kiss
lightly brushing, gentle as possible......
teasing, to and froe
gazing....
anticipating-hurting
souls dancing....
longing to merge
gazing....
bridge we must cross
to the ethereal,
lost or home?
don't think
put it this way!
if the bridge cannot be crossed,
then we are just two ety vessels swapping spit
poem by Hal Burke
Added by Poetry Lover
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