HONEYED

Written by: Cyndi MacMillan

Ensconced on rough fingertips but teased by lips which bid me closer,
I'd first been honeyed by one look alone. Below the skin, something tightens 
while the rest of me succumbs, clings, then opens. Love, you cup my chin,

thumbing my appetite with rugged persuasion, a vow of slow ravishment.
Between us longing is drumming, limbs unfold, hands slip and sighs lighten 
this day’s endless drugery. Murmured pleas tangle in hums of pleasure.

The moon penetrates the thin curtain, strokes the worn sheets, a bold rover,
while teeth and tongue take a deliberate measure of quickened hips, again.
Stars and I trace salted crooks, seasoned by a soft strumming. Night keeps 

our meeting moving moving as the hours deepen. I shift, turn you inside out, 
meet your invasion with my own. My rightful place, high on your hard throne, 
where I can reign, servant and master, ever wanting and wanting evermore.