Miss your lips against my lips,
Miss your skin ‘gainst my fingertips.
Miss the grinding between our hips.
Miss the intimate getting to grips
With all the curves, lines and dips.
The phrase ‘I love you’, from the tounge it slips.
We go like bullets and magazine clips,
I’d give anything possible to have back your lips.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem