I love your eyes.
I love your smile.
I love your skin.
But I mostly love your touch.
I love your laugh.
I love your stories.
I love your jokes.
But I mostly love your touch.
I love the scent of your cologne.
I love the scent of your hair.
I love the sound of your voice.
But I mostly love your touch.
I love your house.
I love your car.
I love the fact that you have money.
But I mostly love your touch.
I love when you hold me.
I love the respect you show me.
I love what you do for me.
But most of all I love your touch.
About the Creator
Danielle Mosley
I've enjoyed writing and reading ever since I was in grade school. I'm looking forward to making a career out of my talent as a writer. If you like any of my articles be sure to share them and leave me a tip. Any type of support is great!
Keep reading
More stories from Danielle Mosley and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Author4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Very nice!
I love this poem!