I can’t write to you
when I can,
I won’t ever know,
n’ever again.
© Scott F Savage 3/2022
I can’t write to you
when I can,
I won’t ever know,
n’ever again.
© Scott F Savage 3/2022
While deep in mind
only the damp taste of her skin
lips trace stirring gasps
silk tease of a neck so precious
as her shoulders open
now wanting more
while hands await a reach
and then flourish
the small of her back
soft kneading fingertips
knowing her center is near
yet a wanton tease
awaiting her own urgency
to now
now
to now
seek her wonder
there it is,
sweet sensuality
her beautiful soul.
© Scott F Savage 3/2022
If sky could speak
a pretty melody play.
Stand outside and look,
look higher, feel the wind
play upon naked skin.
In this moment
your marvelous eye.
A radiant blue,
a promise for you.
©️Scott F Savage 3/2022
Like cherishing a stone
the polish
all smooth and delicate
the touch of our own skin
feels like we are being
gifted.
The touch,
the stone,
the afterthought.
© Scott F Savage 3/5
Turning trauma into triumph since 1981.
Sometimes writing poems let's me forget about the huge sums of debt I'm accumulating while at college
"I feel the rush of your love through my entirety and I know in this very moment of my existence this is where I belong" - The Creative Chic
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writings from my heart and soul
Telling my story while on my healing journey
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Concerning All Types Of Relationships
Children's book illustrator