What is it about this face, those eyes, and these lips?
My hands my feet and I haven’t forgotten about my hips.
All this is me and much more, but why is it all you see?
What is it about this passion, once unveiled?
My glance, my touch, my smell amplified
To be burned in my fire is it all you desire?
1 comment:
Love the poem, so simplisticly complicated. kudos Zee.
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