Like Summertime: A Poem

We kissed again

And it tasted like summertime holding onto spring

Cherry blossoms in scorching heat where nothing is burned

Coolness lingering on softest lips like dew in the morning glistening upon freshest grass of Kentucky Blue

Each caress resting in between the moments of wordless whispers

The movements like the pauses dancing between crescendo and decrescendo

Until at last  our breaths return and we dream of kissing again

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