Imagine what is done

The quickening of my heartbeat at your faintest touch;
evidence you are more to me than any others I have ever known.
My heart has never beat this fast for someone;
not for love, nor hate, or both.
The flutter in my stomach when you speak my name;
attests that you’re affecting me unlike any others I’ve encountered.
A faint tickle which grows to a warm buzzing—
redolent to busy bumble bees in spring.
This is your impact at the merest touch;
the disruption to my composure from your smallest attentions.
Imagine you then what is done to me when we make love.

Posted July 9, 2016 by Inferno in Bardic Reflection

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