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Washing her hair

And barely containing myself

By Paul A. MerkleyPublished about a year ago 1 min read
Photo by Author

My eyes lose themselves in unruly cascades of raspberry brunette seduction just two shades lighter than the luminous orbs that are her eyes, setting off a jaw and cheekbone that make me weak at the knees, and my heart skips a beat, but she calls me to task

Checking the water temperature on my wrist I flood this sea of beauty and plant a kiss just where hair meets skin, a salty, sensuous feast for tongue, but she bids me stop

The fragrances tell exotic tales speaks of far away spices: jamsmine, ginger, nettles, hyacinth, headily mixing with her scent--may I stop now and carry her to the bed--may I ask?

Her scalp is electric, sending shivers up my arms--my fingers make love to her locks as, soaked with spice and foam, they flop

I rinse this passionate beauty and listen to the squeaking of clean hair, I close the flask, I wring her hair dry to the top, then gently carry her away to finish my thought.

love poems

About the Creator

Paul A. Merkley

Mental traveller. Idealist. Try to be low-key but sometimes hothead. Curious George. "Ardent desire is the squire of the heart." Love Tolkien, Cinephile. Awards ASCAP, Royal Society. Music as Brain Fitness: www.musicandmemoryjunction.com

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Comments (2)

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  • Kathleen Vipondabout a year ago

    Wow💓❗️

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