Falling into Neverland

brush of hair1

Brush of hair

aside my ear and neck

lips anxious

fluttering

along curves

I cannot control

You

knowing my swoon

weakness

undoing every strength

I never wished

to use against you

falling willingly

into Neverland

where love lives

on blue moons

and passion blows

in winds

of yellow tomorrows

*

©MidwestFantasy

January 2019

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