untitled

0 Comments

Tags:
  • Passion

    untitled

    Never have I felt anything so soft
    until I finally felt your lips upon my thoughts.
    Until my fingertips had the opportunity to trace the desires inscribed uopn the tablet of your heart.
    Now as I give account of our deliscious ascension
    the aftertaste of your passion is an evocative pastime
    of the way our tongues explored the depths of compatability.
    In that same lucid state of mind that you fell I can still feel my arms around you
    as we both embrace the perception of me never wanting to let you go;
    to somehow always hold on to what we've found in each other.
    At this moment, I want nothing more
    than to bathe myself in every drop from those warm places
    and lose myself in the bittersweet taste of your femininity.

    Poem Comments

    (0)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

    Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

    POET29’s Poems (1)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    untitled 0