Words are toys my fingers play
    to touch you when you're far away.
They weave like rivers through your hair

    and send you smiles because I care.
Letters linger on your skin

    in lieu of fingers seeking sin.
Upon an alphabet of lust

    I'll send my kisses if I must.
So read the caress of my thoughts

    where softly on your skin it walks
And fall under the spell I spell

    when my tongue its teasing tells
Across your skin, across the miles,

    I send you kisses, hopes and smiles.

2004 Sonja Torres

 

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