WritheA Poem by MarlenaThe way you make me move...Fingers travel over my skin I gasp you smile, lips pressed against my hair you say my name the air is quiet except for the rustling of sheets Your hands tangle in mine, fingers laced together you kiss my lips, I moan and we move together, we writhe I am yours, darling, and yours alone. © 2009 MarlenaAuthor's Note
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