Allure
'Tis not long, but the very next day,
away from us stealing what moments we may;
yet I already feel the ghost of your lips
upon my waiting neck, on each of their many trips.
A visit to a favorite friend with no strings,
become a stage for the joy that flesh brings;
at once long-awaited and a wondrous surprise,
to hear your delighted cries and contented sighs.
A hand on mine, the other trailing soft fingers,
you left a tingling on my back that yet lingers;
a bite here, a scratch there, a kiss elsewhere,
and I was freely lost in desire's tight snare.
We varied between laughing at each other's jests,
and gasping at each other's sensual, deft quests;
my blood rises as I write, recalling your caress,
your amative gaze as we felt each other effloresce.
A more enrapt and passionate amour I cannot remember,
and I daresay I long to once again tend this ember;
soon I would replace this echo of your taste
with my grip once again adorning your waist.
Copyright © Andy Sprouse | Year Posted 2019
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