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Kewayne Wadley Nov 2018
Your lips are like home.
A place (always) with me,
No matter how far away.
When I kiss you.
I am to be found nowhere else.
Except what I've thought all day.

A place of warmth.
A place of comfort.
Your lips.
Where all of my favorite memories can be found.
Stretched out.
Your breath the clothes I slide in and out.
Your lips the only place that matters.
Your lips more that confirms that home is not a place.

A kiss that welcomes me with open affection.
All of my favorite things.
Soon to return.
Again & again
Kewayne Wadley Nov 2018
With the lines small in attendance.
We made haste,
Skipping to the front.
A ceremony of shoes,
moving inch by inch.
We felt like kids again.
Amusing ourselves before a rush of anxiety.
Being slung in the air.
Our hands and feet lifeless by our side.
Nothing but stretched nylon and belts keeping us in our seat.
The ****** of seeing her eyes light next to mine.
This was how I felt being by her side.
The anticipation of knowing that at any given moment.
A strange metamorphosis was bound to happen.
The simplest thing such as walking became that much enjoyable.
The endless patter of feet.
Pounding over and over.
Walking about,
Reviewing our love of food.
Funnel cakes, fried Oreo.
A festival of taste buds refined by hers.
An obese smile,
Both our stomachs full.
The anticipation of reaching our peak.
Let out as a loud yell, covered by the sound of laughing.
The sound of bells and dings.
Large to small plush bears & animals given to the winner of each game. 
Her being the best prize there.
Life size

— The End —