Thursday, July 21, 2011

A gentle brush of his fingers ...!


A gentle brush of his fingers

With a soft brush of fingers,
Sending shivers down my spine.
In love I see in his eyes,
It is love, which is responsible for me.

She greets me with a smile,
And leave me with a kiss.
If he ever leave me,
I could not imagine what was going to lose.

Maybe it's his touch,
Or the way I felt.
But whatever

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