This ghost of your kiss

and now, sweet…

I am taking this feeling –

this ghost of your lips –

to feather my dreams

to light my soft slow breaths

and this insistence, sweet…

I am gathering this touch –

this flutter of your ethereal fingertips –

to dance my swelling sighs

to cry my wishes crystal

and then, sweet…

I am drawing this flow –

this brush and ken of your body on mine –

to fire and twist and gleam and lift my vision

to stroke and stir each hanging gasp

and this tightening, sweet…

I am spinning this pulse –

this crashing keen whisper of your voice –

to tumble my groaning pant and howl

to sink my throbbing fantasy

and now this sweet then fading

this ghost of your lips

on mine