Your arms are like vines
Winding their way up my body
Blossoming flowers where I’d seen none before.
The touch of your fingertips
Tender like the brush of leaves
And your windy breath raising my flesh;
Pull me in. Pull me down.
I yearn for your roots
Intertwined with mine,
An infinite dance toward the skies
As we grow as one.
Dec 23, 2020
Dec 23, 2020 at 10:42 PM UTC
Your arms are like vines
Winding their way up my body
Blossoming flowers where I’d seen none before.
The touch of your fingertips
Tender like the brush of leaves
And your windy breath raising my flesh;
Pull me in. Pull me down.
I yearn for your roots
Intertwined with mine,
An infinite dance toward the skies
As we grow as one.
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