Traces

He traces over my body
Exploring every freckle like it’s a galaxy
He speaks in mountains of sighs
He travels through my valley’s
Through my depressions and my highs
He lingers near the alley of my thighs
He catches every heartbeat when he looks into my eye
And gentle is the hand that never says goodbye

© Delia Ross. 2019

He once traced me in poetry, now it is only in dream…

One thought on “Traces

  1. I’ve got a bunch of other micropoetry I may share, I felt like this one was not good enough to share so I’m going to start sharing more of the ones I don’t feel good enough to share… sorry if this doesn’t meet your expectations.

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