Written by: Jessica Arteaga

O sweet touches, tell me low:

"How does your skin age so slow?"

Wanting fingers trail hello, how can those eyes just watch me so?
Like children running along my back, I feel your hand ask for a snack.
Letting it follow my inner thigh, my eyes glare to yours:

"You won't survive..."

A simple smile that whispers more, a hand retracts to my face's shore.
Bubbling on top of my nose and lips, other fingers dance upon my hips;
shallow grasping starts to pour; O this man I shall adore!

Hard kisses turn to small bites
Playful digits take off sites
Eyes stay missing right?
For we can kindle, this Valentine's night.