poems skin September 4, 2013by heather anne How would it feel? My skin urgently against yours, my breath through your lungs. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading...
Some call it red 
I would guess . . . incredible. —–Chagall
Well that made me blush.
shivering goosebumps
paint flaming skin
tasting of the aperitif
that precedes the feast
I guess this old man would drop dead.
When your ecstasy
enters me I don’t know who
is who anymore
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