BY CAROLE NICHOLS
Like the tide, you come to me.
Like the heated sand, I take you in.
You seep into my pores and soul;
Where do I stop and you begin?
You surge and pulse and caress,
And cover me wetly with your touch.
Strong and male and full of life;
You bestow on me what I need so much.
And like the tide, you come, then leave;
Yielding but a memory and restless ache.
Depositing a yearning to know once more
That special magic that you make.
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