Intellectual Foreplay

Even if we will never touch Or see the other one just as much, Our conversations still takes a tone, Between the whispers and after moans... As soothing treble become the bass, On such a level your voice escapes, Replacing touches you used to feel, With words in such a way that's so real... Massage my cortex and rub my soul, With bits and pieces that make you whole, Such alphabetical pleasantry, You're hypothetically here with me... Comprise a theme full of lust and sin, Inside a dream that you'll hide me in, Then bare your mind unto only me, Prepare to find what your body needs... Although you linger on every word, Remember what you have felt and heard, So when you daydream you won't forget, The reason why it will end so wet.... Terry WWW.WhiteLionPoetry.com