Tickle fight

Red, brown, blond
Hair framing freckles on a
Soft tear-dropped shape.

Brown highlighted with green
Eyes sparkling at me
Between smiling eye lids.

Cheeks pushed up, flexed,
Pulling soft red lips
Into a perfect pouty crescent.

Soft, lean muscles surround me
As your arms struggle
with themselves to both
Pull me closer and push me away.

My fingers resting on your belly and hip
Press against flexing muscles
As you giggle and wriggle,
Pulling away as I tickle.

This is perfection.

Author's Note

Criticism greatly appreciated, and all thoughts and reactions welcome.

Reviews

[Ria Carol]

Its a funny poem...wonderfully written