Penelope

She seems to be wicked
But she’s not
She’s the gentlest girl around
And I know I shouldn’t
It’s against who I am
But I can’t help myself
I love her.

I stroke her thighs
Caress her face
Cradle her head in my lap
And I kiss her frantically
All over her body
As if my kisses
Can bring me closer
To her soul.

But it’s not enough
(It’s never enough)
And with a cry of desperation
I bury my head in her chest
I feel the gentle movement
Of her heart beating
And for a moment
I am at peace.

I cling to her feebly
I do not want to move
Because when I do
We will be apart
My fingers tremble
As I grip her soft body tighter
And for a moment
We are one.

Some wonder
If I’ve ever experienced love.
And I wince painfully
As I think of her
And I know I shouldn’t
It’s against who I am
But I can’t help myself
I love her.

With the style this is written in, I think this was done just fine.

I feel the gentle moment
Of her heart beating
The 'gentle moment' line was a bit awkwardly put there...

Otherwise, I don't think there's much to say.

Yet another reason why you should NOT write poetry at one o'clock in the morning. Bad, bad...

moment = movement

I'm... stupid.

I thaught it was good dispite the lateness (or earlyness) of the hour where you live.

Insperation often strikes late at night. Posibly all the muses have floated away from people who have fallen asleep and have genious to share.

One thing, the title seams a little unfitting(sp?) becuase you don't mention her name in the poem. Perhaps I love her? That's just me though.

I think it is very fitting.

Then again, I know Penelope...

You are NOT stupid. Heck of a lot smarter than me, at least. I like it. I have no particular suggestions or comments other than that it conveyed your feelings well, and created a clear image in my mind.