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poem

  1. profile image59
    jon88posted 7 years ago

    Even though you haven’t
    touched me where I want you to,
    and I haven’t touched you
    where I’m dying to,
    my brain has gone simply
    cuckoo staring at you
    leaning over slightly,
    and like a clock on the wall,
    your hips turning from
    three to nine, and nine to three,
    leaving me enthralled.

    1. zzron profile image61
      zzronposted 7 years ago in reply to this

      I love the cuckoo part. What a nice nickname, I'l take it. LOL.

    2. pbwriterchick profile image60
      pbwriterchickposted 7 years ago in reply to this

      This is nice... a uncluttered snippet of thought. Great style!

    3. Bhawna Sharma profile image77
      Bhawna Sharmaposted 7 years ago in reply to this

      I wish to read more of this poets brain. In less words poet has given a very real description of feelings.

  2. Lady_E profile image82
    Lady_Eposted 7 years ago

    Great Poem.

    With some music in the background it will make a nice song.

    The words remind me of an old Michael Bolton's  song "Can I touch you there"?

    His words. smile

  3. brightforyou profile image79
    brightforyouposted 7 years ago

    Love this - very clever!

 
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