We made love a week ago,
Afterward I said done.
I felt relieved, free of you.
But now you're standing in my door,
My body lets me know
I cannot live with none,
I know I have to be with you.
Let's make love...some more...
Nice poem. It has a ring of truth that reminds me of a couple "one last times." They're bittersweet, aren't they?
ReplyDeleteI left an explanation to your question where you left the question, okay?
Also, while I remember, I see you have an appreciation for Whitman's Leaves of Grass. Have you seen the movie With Honors?
ver: gynshtu
Bless you, and those knives purported to cut all manner of things more solid than butter.