Dew In the Morning Sun
exposed skin...chilled from the night air
or is it the touch of your warm hands
slightly stroking, tenderly provoking
either way...bumps raise on ivory skin
soft sighs...escape through moistened lips
beads glisten like dew in the morning sun
sheets twists as love tumbles
in the late afternoon light
music plays...in our minds
as we move rhythmically
to a dance we have danced before
but it is always like the first time
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