erotic poetry, love, lust, poetry, sensuality, women

Lips

20161217_122457

Watching me speak

As much as listening

Fighting the urge

To reach out and touch

Tracing a fingertip

Against the soft, red flesh

With a child like fascination

Your adult imagination

Already feels my breath

Against the places

Growing warm beneath 

Your clothes

My voice goes with you

Through you

Into you

A bow that has fired

Something deep into 

You. 

Not quite Cupid’s arrow

Because no cherub

Would do the things

That you imagine

Me

Doing.

 

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