Soft skin of your shoulders
like velvet to my touch.
Cream in my mouth,
melting.
Easy to consume.
Compelling me to stroke you lightly
only with my finger tips.
I trace outlines,
contours,
of your gentle curve.
Muscles lying relaxed but firm,
define graceful shape of place
where your burdens lie.
Your warm breath in my ear
saying something sweet.
What?
Does not matter.
The heat of it relaxes me
into a puddle of bliss.
Your body is thousands of miles away
never to return.
Yet you are beside me
in my bed ~ lingering.
Sensations of you
planted deep.
A ghost that has no other home.
Jocelyn Harper 
This is beautiful Jocelyn.
“What? It does not matter”
my favorite line.
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Wow!
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“A ghost that has no other home” – I like it…
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Thanks Mike ~
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Oh my goodness sakes. Oh wow. (I don’t know if little old ladies should be reading this. But we will and we do!) Marvelous, writer. Lingering there.
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You are not ‘old’ & some may argue that you are no lady! 😉 Thanks for your kind & fun words.
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