Treasure Island

Rowving Smith


Alone Together


Lips talking to lips
Fingers leading fingers
Touches telling where to touch
Worlds merging mixing
Yet we were seeking
Our own bliss

Rushing and running
Bodies aching
Seeking the end
Minds not wanting
Trying and holding
Moments frozen
To melt away and flow
And seep through the sand
And loose forever....!

[For those moments we were alone but together]

Submitted: Tuesday, March 25, 2008
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