What you touch grows.
You knows
how to get to that part
of me, the heart
of the matter
served on a platter
of sweet treats
dark succulent meat
full of nutrition.
You keeps me on a mission
to keep the feast coming
and coming and coming,
taste the juicy fruits
engage in your pursuit
of my special pleasure,
my hidden treasure,
a bud that only blossoms
when you reach for the bottom
of the well
where you can’t see but you can tell
there is a treasure,
beyond time or measure
a place where we can dwell
alone together very well.
What You Touch Grows
August 27th, 2007 by martha mims · No Comments
Tags: Features · Poem of the Day · vol 02 issue 34 · Volume 4

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