Tickle fight

Red, brown, blond
Hair framing freckles on a
Soft tear-dropped shape.

Brown highlighted with green
Eyes sparkling at me
Between smiling eye lids.

Cheeks pushed up, flexed,
Pulling soft red lips
Into a perfect pouty crescent.

Soft, lean muscles surround me
As your arms struggle
with themselves to both
Pull me closer and push me away.

My fingers resting on your belly and hip
Press against flexing muscles
As you giggle and wriggle,
Pulling away as I tickle.

This is perfection.

Author's Note

Criticism greatly appreciated, and all thoughts and reactions welcome.

Reviews

[Neha agrawal]

This is a tender, intimate portrait—so vivid and tactile that it feels less like a poem and more like a stolen moment pressed between pages.

[FlatDaddy]

I have returned after a long absence and remembered you enough to read more of your work so I started at the top (but it will be all for today. I have others to visit/harass.) Just wanted to thank you for this piece. I almost wish you hadn't given it all away with your title. I was sorta leaning toward a more erotic sty 'til I got to the end. A lovely piece -- but I wonder what that "tear-dropped shape" might be.

[Ria Carol]

Its a funny poem...wonderfully written