When I wake from slumber in the twilight
hours I hear still your voice a soft whisper
on my skin.
An echo of need brought out from my dream.
The touch of your fingers stroking my thighs,
the taste of your lips,
the warmth of your body entangled with mine,
skin aglow,
candles flickering in the shadows,
dancing to a song of sin.
Lost moments as passion wins.
Pleasure escaping my lips in a perfect melodious
tune played by your fair fingers.
And I am lost in your eyes, in desires deep sigh.
And I am lost in your lips that devour my essence
on the tip of your tongue.
And I am lost in your spirit that whispers to mine.
And I am lost making love losing all sense of time.
Just us and the stars and a glorious moon
atomized love charged by desire,
defined on the tip of passions fire.
Image found on pinterest
Karen Hayward ©2016
Made me feel again. Sigh. That was really powerful. Fourteenth line I suspect you mean “desires” to be “desire’s” for the possessive.
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