I watched his fingers

intertwined with mine,

and my thoughts wander

to a place stuck in time.

 

Wishing this feeling

was more than lust

yet nothing is more appealing

than his gentle thrust.

 

That heats this body

and warms this heart.

I don’t feel sorry

when morning starts

 

Like a routine, I must depart.

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I am a virgin. It may not seem that way due to the explicit imagery by my poems. But I truly am. The poetic mind has the ability to explore more than what has been experienced in their life.

©aishaadamspoetry

*Photo from Pinterest*