Savage Grace

As gentle as 

My touch can be,

A coaxing gesture,

The truth of my actions,

Warrants boldness,

Not clumsiness

And you, 

Present a truth 

As I rend your clothes,

Hair pulled into a lock

At the nape of your neck,

Stripes across your skin,

Blue and purple blossoms,

Where my touch approaches

The velocity of passion,

Hang blankets above

Our heads as I 

Reach within you

Draw out the light,

Carress and find its heart

To coax into openness

Kissing until we lose


Only to know

When we pull apart 

To breathe,

We are found

In such a state

Of savage, eloquent



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