Sonnet XII
The lingering of lips enhanced on each,
so tenderly proportioned had they not,
been subtle to have pressed upon the reach,
to lick the juice, 'temptation' from that spot!
It drizzled such as if the next step froze,
between the next embedded ounce of strength,
a certain time together in that pose,
had promised better things, a kiss at length.
We kissed until the time between us both,
stood still and if it had - was that sedate?
to argue if our bond was one of growth,
concealed in one another's said debate.
The wayward gaze towards your finger tips,
would follow what was next in line, your lips.
Adding your comment:
but I will settle for reading yours .
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