beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

Breakfast

Sleep retreats

Hunger is my alarm

And I reach

For you

Without nerves

Or reluctance,

The gentle force of

My hands guiding you,

Before the day breaks,

You will

And I move with

Intent between your

Thighs,

Like waves against the shore,

A night against you

Sated but a few hours

Absorbing your skin

Your scent

The way cats lay on

Sun warmed concrete,

And so before tea,

I make you

Breakfast

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