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This poem is about a young woman and her first time. Growing, changing as a woman.
Just click Add to Cart and once you have purchased the item you will receive a link which will direct you to the site you can edit the text and background.
The night was quiet, breath held tight,
a hush beneath the candlelight.
She trembled not from fear but flame
a whisper soft that knew her name.
His hands were slow, like reading Braille,
each kiss a story, warm and pale.
The world fell back, the self-undone,
two shadows folding into one.
A sharpness first, then something sweet,
a breaking tide, a rhythmic beat.
She learned the shape of want and trust,
how skin could spark, and bones could rust.
No longer girl, not quite defined,
but something born of love and mind.
This poem is about a young woman and her first time. Growing, changing as a woman.
Just click Add to Cart and once you have purchased the item you will receive a link which will direct you to the site you can edit the text and background.
The night was quiet, breath held tight,
a hush beneath the candlelight.
She trembled not from fear but flame
a whisper soft that knew her name.
His hands were slow, like reading Braille,
each kiss a story, warm and pale.
The world fell back, the self-undone,
two shadows folding into one.
A sharpness first, then something sweet,
a breaking tide, a rhythmic beat.
She learned the shape of want and trust,
how skin could spark, and bones could rust.
No longer girl, not quite defined,
but something born of love and mind.