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building your spasms one line at a time
save your desire
for pleasure
and let wonder
be the spectacle
of your intimate
design
allow my kisses to travel
in the direction of abandon
where giggles blend
with whispers
and intimate
topography
is explored
slip off the map
into a stream
of conscious
navigation
where desire is that
dangerous pendulum
swinging like
the ticking clock
and waiting
for you
This is a beautiful, chaste, and innocent love poem. I object to the comment above that begins with the word, "Dirty." There is nothing dirty in this poem.
Starward
Dirty, but still romantic. Very very nice.
intoxicated with the ecstasy of loving... good writing! eric