deepundergroundpoetry.com
Touched.
Fingers trace fire,
a whisper against trembling skin,
desires rising, unraveling,
spilling secrets in the hush of night.
A surge, a gasp—
breath caught between need and knowing,
pleasure flooding, aching,
a worship of motion, of surrender.
A gush, a pulse, a cry—
still, I wonder,
what magic is this,
that sets me free and binds me whole?
a whisper against trembling skin,
desires rising, unraveling,
spilling secrets in the hush of night.
A surge, a gasp—
breath caught between need and knowing,
pleasure flooding, aching,
a worship of motion, of surrender.
A gush, a pulse, a cry—
still, I wonder,
what magic is this,
that sets me free and binds me whole?
Published 13th Mar 2025
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13th Mar 2025 6:45pm
Favourite verse, for drama:
A surge, a gasp—
breath caught between need and knowing,
pleasure flooding, aching,
a worship of motion, of surrender.
A surge, a gasp—
breath caught between need and knowing,
pleasure flooding, aching,
a worship of motion, of surrender.
