Itching

Who was it

that said the best lover is the man

that can thrill you

by kissing your forehead?

Audrey? Marilyn?

His fingers caressed my palm,

somewhere no one had cared to touch

me, and I was thrilled,

in the pit of my stomach,

my heart squeezing with desire

-induced pangs, my skin alive

and itching to be touched—

an itch only he could scratch.

His fingers never strayed

farther than my wrist

and yet I felt them all over.

kate

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