I Am Not really Sure

I am not really sure

What it was,

A mist of melancholy,

A memory moment,

Perhaps simply you

Forever entwined in the

Energy fields winding

Around me,

Pressing, pulling, tingling,

Tickling, your tips

Skimming over my skin

Creating a summer sensation

Of tropical heat and the beat

Of romantic hearts and mystical

Distant drums.

 

Stephen  Nesbitt ©

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