His hands were rough

Against the softness of her skin

An unshaven face

Bristled against her neck

His lips, a salted cold

Whispered, sending chills

Time together shortened

He would soon set sail

A memory, until he returned

A longing deep within

He was all she knew

And it was his touch

She would always crave

 

©2017 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
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