Edwina Reizer (12/22/1937 / LAKEWOOD, NJ)
You held your hand upon my breast
and I felt the warmth of it.
And as I felt its presence
I wondered at how it fit.
It’s as if my breast was made for this
and as your fingers splayed
I fell asleep with certainty
that this feeling I’d never trade.
Comments about this poem (Your Hand by Edwina Reizer )
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