Zywa Reading breath

Just as the wind, sometimes
drawing my belly
in the fabric of my dress
I am reading your soul
with the breath of my soul

my passion discovers
yours, who you are
and the boy you were

I read your desires
and your love for me
from the flowing glow

over your beating body
in the fragrantly brewing bed
of autumn leaves in which
you stretch out, inside out
read by me

Poem 1197
Amsterdam, 2017-03-12

Collection: Webgarden 
Keyword: Contact: touch(ed) 
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