Face (an acrostic poem)

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Feeling where his eyes, his cheekbones, and his jaw were. It gave her a quick mental picture.

Alice smiled.  He was a handsome boy for sure.

Clyde asked her, “Would you like to see how my lips feel?”

Everything stopped as his lips pressed against hers.

Petite (an acrostic poem)

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Perhaps short was not quite the right word

Even diminutive didn’t fit her stature

There was so much crammed in that tiny package

It boggled his mind as he lay there

The fact that she graced him with a slight smug smile made his heart flutter

Even as his jaw throbbed from her uppercut