She melts on your tongue like her favourite chocolate,
Her lips, a Chardonnay that keeps giving well after it's swallowed.
Buttery smooth, moist, warm, and beef tender,
A mind bender that shoots down your toes and spine.
You always pine for her, yet she wonders.
Your body is riddled with landmines of memories with her,
Yet she ponders.
Her skin is like ice on your lips,
Gliding under your fingers as they trace her hips. She emits emotions through her skin;
You inhale the fragrance of her heart,
Dine on its rawness served on the sides of her neck.
Her passionate stares are darts; you're the board, Your soul, the bull's-eye – and she never misses.
Simply said:
I wear her lips, clothed in her skin,
Chewing on her taste like gum,
Breathing her, with her living on my fingertips,
My spine and toes never recovering from every encounter.
About the Creator
Mischief Muchaneta
A geek but I turn green when I write. I dabble in short prose and poetry. A quiet STORM…
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Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
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