I bathed her with my words, as my fingers caressed and danced over her form.
“Is it still poetry?” she asked.
“No, my dear,” I said. “It’s not poetry anymore.
It’s pure emotion straight from my heart.”
She smiled and said,
“I don’t want mindless adoration.”
She licked her lips and whispered,
“I desire tranquil, deep rooted, unspeakable intimacy.”
My fingers found her glistening sheath and my fingers tiptoed around and over her pearl.
Her resistance buckled and she hissed,
“Yes, just there.”
I leant down and spelt my name with the tip of my tongue as her body danced.
