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Poetry: Kisses
The Kiss
by Pat Boone

I have stopped, preoccupied with other things than this...for my mind wanders endlessly and only thinks of a kiss.

It travels up and down your face, over flesh that's soft and warm....my heart is all a flutter, as my lips like bee's do swarm.

For a touch, a taste, of you I need, to make my life complete...oh let me lick the tender flesh, made of honey sweet.

 
 
 
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