A first glance
Shy, hesitant
Doubtful
Yet curious
Your heart quickens
Warmth spreads
Anticipation grips
Unable to stir
So gentle a touch
Silken flesh
Searing heat
The world stills
All noise fades
Breath catches
Intense
Expectations
Agonizing seconds
Ticking by
Fear rises
Why?
Leaning closer
Needs build
Closer yet
As fires flame
Arousing
Oh, so near
Yet too far
Such painful longing
Then, the slightest brush
Lips so soft
Welcome
Wanting
Deepened need
Explosive
Passionate
Trembling
One perfect
Mesmerizing
Exquisite
… Kiss
~D
Oh, my goodness gracious. I need to find a man and do some kissing after reading that poem. Alas, there is nothing silken nor searing when your years arrive more than eighty. At least, my memory does not fail me.