Of Value

Published on by Susi Bocks

Redux

Pixabay.com

Hours spent pressed into your body.
Attached at your hip.

Held strong and with desire.
Swaying, dancing with love.

Your fingers gentle but bold.
Moving up and sensuously down.

Eliciting whispered praises to you.
Always giving, more.

Easy to pick up.
Harder to put down.

I wish I were a guitar.

Originally posted October 2, 2018 on I Write Her.

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