Your hands went anywhere without consent
they traveled, guided by your mind
Sleeping, I could say no yes
half-waking, I felt your kiss

That kiss was my undoing, intoxicated as I was
by wine, but the quality of our mouths
doing what you began in reciprocity
spoke to forgotten yearning

I was celibate by choice; you knew but trespassed
how you dared I don’t know-the future days
no thought, but seducing
I could not move

I wanted, yet not, to stop you, we were friends
how to go on after this? So I kissed too
the way I used to kiss my lover
I still pay for your trespass

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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