House Sitting Poem by Lorene Kinsey

Sweep my finger tips over the flame
Take myself back to the
Dim light of that old house,
How you held me, traced
A journey over my cheeks, resting
Against your pillow, traveled to that
Place we weren’t quite ready to go—
How I wanted to, get lost in those deep eyes,
velvety lips, hands discovering boney hips.
Quieter then, insecure, unsure how
To express the explosions within me,
Tingling all over, unable to lock away
The sound of a pleasure I was so lost in,
Enjoyment of a body I adored, never dreamed
I’d have a moment to explore.