Quenched

And so woke an
envious mind
a subtle craving
a gentle image
grasping at
dreams…
… the
bottle between
your hands
the glass between
your fingers
the neck at your lips
Your tongue
saturated
nectar spilling
into your mouth
and the way your
eyes caress
her curves
seconds before
you place the
ice cold
bottled beer to
your lips and she
quenches your
primal thirst.

Karen Hayward ©2018

Image and words

Quench me. . .

redhairwings

My lips hunger
for your thirst,
my teeth,
for your flesh.
My tongue
salivates
for your
sweat.
My fingers
itch for your
scratch,
my hands for
your pinch.
My eyes
need quenching
by your form
my cheeks
by your hand.
My lungs
need to release
your screams
my throat
such a delicacy
caressed
strong fingers
embracing.
This intensity
burns
I need to
kiss you.

Karen Hayward (2017)