Her hips draw my fingertips
along curves which fit and filter
moments somewhat slower
than a many of a kind;
then our grip soon slides and slips
those sands across my mind.
A contest entry
- Hour Glass by Malabu.
525 points, ended May 23, 2008, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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I like the poem...sensual and delightful...on the critique side...less is more in this case....
I like sensual poems and you seemed to have delved into it...I had trouble with (as many of a kind) might want to edit the last lines with a new thought..thanks for entering my contest...
Mal


