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Pressed Flower
Pressed Flower
I pressed a flower to My lips
and closed My eyes;
imagined your mouth caressing Mine;
inhaled the fragrance, made a mental note
that you smell better
than any rose
that ever tickled My nose,
or rosehips
that ever graced These lips.
you feel better than any velvet petal
on satin skin.
you taste better
than the sweetest honey there has ever been.
And your name in My ears
sounds better than
the birds at sunrise, as dark disappears.
When I pressed this flower to My mouth,
I thought I'd like
to guide it South,
to come to rest
on mounds moist with dew,
and imagined its gentle caresses were you.
Karen Godson (AmazonPoet)
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