PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

i wondered how it came to be
that passion burns in fragrant hues,
and as you churned, you turned to me,
so taciturn yet filled with muse;
beneath my heat, between your chills,
betwixt our sighs and wanton thrills,

you call my name above the fray,
your candles speaking spits and spats,
our bodies tweaking, twitched and played,
we crawl on fours like feral cats;
beneath your arc, between your sheets,
transfixed in acrobatic feats,

your lips a swell I long to ride,
to shores afar that speak in tongues,
your hips a moon that pulls my tide,
with waves that sing like sirens sung;
beneath the surf, between its heaves,
eclipsed by thighs as thick as thieves,

we curl in ways that locks cannot,
too crimped and kinked too come out straight,
we thread the needle, tying knots,
forever linked in figure eights;
beneath the skin, between the throws,
it kicks the shins and comes and goes.