Finger Strokes

Your lips were made for me.      
       
I dream of tracing my fingertips over.      
Speak in volumes about love
Please tell me again and again;      
as I feel the movement.      
       
Those lips that will make contact      
I can only imagine the desire they hold within      
Just for me.      
       
One word..Intensity.      
       
From a simple peck      
to a full blown smooch  
Each one received with care.      
   
I would treasure them all.      
Burying them away in memory boxes      
marked  X      
       
       
My lips yearn for yours      
They wait patiently    
On crowded platform stations    
to the empty space in my bed.      
          
       
They dream endlessly      
of every soft brush to every      
hard press when moments    
become to much to take.      
 
From standing in public      
and showing the world.
      
To standing alone  
finally..      
   
When we can give them the freedom      
and time they require.      
       
       
Showing each other      
just what our kisses really mean.