Honeysuckle

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Spooned to warm curves,
close enough to breathe you in.
my being folded with yours,
it’s only natural to ache for more.

I can inhale this pheromone
emanating from your soft skin,
the delicate precision in
just how a neck curves,
the subtle sweet flavor
lips savor upon meeting.

There’s lemon and honeysuckle,
there’s rain making melodies
with droplets splashing,
spreading through fresh
clothes and ripe flowerbeds.

Fragrant desire perfumes oxygen
the more my curious hands unravel,
it’s the scent of unbridled desire
ready to silently shatter the calm.

You say mine is nocturnal,
reminiscent of the deep night
when you gasp and inhale,
I wonder what you’re breathing in.

If it’s the mystery of how
people are so drawn together,
some sweetness in the air
that links our separate seasons,
the heavens and cool dark earth below,
the in between we will collide within.

Close enough to breathe you in,
to not run from the furious pulse,
it’s only natural to want more.

It’s only natural to seek
the precise way you taste,
even sweeter when curves
are flushed with new need.

With the flare of a tongue
dipping deeper inside you
to savor the nectar stirred,
a tide that refuses to recede.

There’s no true name to encompass
what leaves my lips glistening,
you’re every sweet flavor,
every sensory delight
that has ever drugged me.

It was all triggered with something
as seemingly simple as scent,
as lemon and honeysuckle,
as rain drumming tunes in the night,
soaking through us entirely.

It’s only natural to crave more.

Published 9 years ago

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