Looking Glass
The mind's eye plays tricks on desire.
There, I feel your body pressed
hard against mine,
Each breath in unison is something divine.
The thick-hot passion of our
two forms entwined
Drips from our naked mass.
There your lips secrete
such sweet sugar.
A leg wraps wantingly
around my torso
As my finger tips dig passionate
Into your warm, gentle sides.
Alas, the mind's eye is only a looking glass.
I am here alone again,
Cold with the dank morning dew.
And you, you are the sleeping angel
That keeps the bed warm
With these same euphoric burning blessings
That the mind's eye can only dream of.
Copyright © Andrew Repenning | Year Posted 2012
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