Trace


Trace

My fingers dance
Across his skin
Moonlight plays
Across his face

The shape of a heart
The point of a star
His goosebumps spike
As I make my case

From the nape of his neck
To the tail of his back
My fingers tapping
As I uncover every space

He quietly moans
My fingers swirl
As every inch of him
I trace

Diva’s Loving Leadership (c) 2017

divaleads.wordpress.com

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