Blank Verse Meditation on a Vision of Love

It’s good to feel your finger on my lips,
a sign to keep me quiet, or a touch
of love inviting me to take you in
and kiss the smallest offering of you.
This token is more delicate than peace,
it moves my doubt, but only side to side.
Unsure, I close my eyes and cast my mind
to words you’ve left as unintended clues.
Un-pressed the moment that I think I know
why simple touches bear a steady pulse,
the taste un-lingered causes me to draw
response as automatic as my love.
They flow from words, desires, visions, dreams,
and mark their time unhesitatingly.

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