In that moment,
the wetness lips found,
a gasp, a shudder, hands in caress,
will in sudden pull,
find each other.
It is when I can travel,
my lips leaving your own,
to find a naked shoulder, the skin I imagine (hope)
comes alive with my needed touch.
Yes, it is my need to find your own release,
to, as I roam your naked body, I can cause utterance
whereby if I glance, your eyes,
they do dance with a certain delightful abandon.
Yet I have just begun,
there is so much of you to touch,
to feel, to hold, to know…
I would if time permit allow my trace, sweet breath, wet kisses,
a gathering of every centered zone your sweet lips,
beg my travel, my hands underneath would pull you to me,
and I would never end, always finding a new taste,
a sensual accentuate sexual design,
sketched upon your beauty.
* photo found on Etsy
I wish I might
begin again to recognize,
cherish, perhaps always, recall in
special terms, an accentuated agenda,
toward your beauty.
I wish I may
know beyond a selfish
constant need to validate,
to suggest a prowess beyond human
the grace in loving you.
I wish …
I wish in all our throes of need,
when realized is the societal drive of passion,
when all of the world could recall,
her elegance, a sensuality that screams
the passion of my loins.
I wish then I might know how to tell you,
in all of your mystique, such vulnerable delight,
I love you.
we all feel the same
begin to climb
satisfaction is a driving force
when all else
disappears in the mist
of release –
we play together
if that men could understand.
If through the silk of your beauty,
stand before me,
I am head bowed,
hands hold held hips
my lips will search inside an inner
sweet delicious … you
guide me to your essence …
a natural reversal of demand,
when yes we are told
your knees be bruised regularly
meet our wants today, tonight,
every moment we might suggest …
yet this vision
when I breathe in sensuality,
the fabric contains her fragrant reminder,
of that which well before my own
strike an internal fire,
in woman repose
give solace to preferential need.
If, when, would she know.
I do fantasize to be sure,
if I might share with her,
a certain desire a storm
perhaps sweep away norm
I would simply taste beauty,
gasps along the inside pretty
scent of her mystique whispers
desire, wanton release is hers
when dance I will light touch
to offer sensuality swift such
swept passion to now agonize
to know, believe in her wise,
movement is the elegance of dance
when today, found is my chance
trace sinewy lines to uttered moan
while certain shaded hills have grown
strong within the valley’s shelter
we could remain wild together
to shift seas, understand a wave
of energy allows passion save
her eyes plead for safe travel
without such we will unravel
yet tonight, our love can draw
canvas of magic, a see-saw
bound upon each other, when
sudden our shift we might then
chuckle in the midst of climax
the leading edge cannot relax
I do want wish wisps her where
becomes my tangles her hair
encompasses my own arousal
whilst alone her eye in perusal
can study my wish to explode
whilst desire a delight to implode
as she does reach, might I know
just that path to truly find a glow.
These are the moments love seems
to offer spiritual innocence to dreams
Would it be a shiver,
indeed, the very touch of your skin,
against mine in the quiet sunset of our lives.
would that all of my desire, my passion,
might respond to your intrigue, lest any reservation,
only sheer sensuality, unbridled to reach so high,
in discretion, we imagine, yet in the public eye,
only mine and yours do we seek more attention.
In mild contrast, we tease each other’s eye,
a sensation of fantasy, a stroll along the telephone wire,
old friends whose mind wild with desire
contain themselves with their own delicious
retreat into a touch, an afterthought,
a conversation with physical response,
yet, together in their own separation,
the safety of climax might reach or may play a song,
long wound in rhythmical pace,
drawing strong the need to become
one with each other
across the world.
Beauty is fond memory,
when in those waking moments,
when only a thin linen shelters skin,
the slightest turn, twist, tease
brings you immediately to mind,
and hands and slide and sensory
motion suddenly lays you by my side.
If I could hold you in my arms
would you be then content
if waking together we would
naturally begin to dance,
a slow motion waltz:
lips and gasps to stir our soul
utterance yearn, high energy
as to a nirvana achieved.
Gaze upon climax received,
inside each other’s wet
unbridled sexual release
we might imagine delight,
nostalgic, my world secure
while your radiance nearby
protects me from fear.
I lay within my shadows
only to shed a tear,
a joyful reckoning of
elegance felt in your arms,
that only time has removed,
yet memory will always seem
worthy of our waking dreams.