Cinder of Urge

My heart encapsulates the hues of the sunburst sky, the sensitive strokes of your yearning’s tender brush paint purple passion of blooming rose in my garden, on the convivial canvas cascade ripples of emotion. The patina of enticement flushes your luring lips, quivering with the cadence of the drenching dew, graze on the glowing meadow of my fervent face, at the acme of sensuous rapture I waft on euphoria. The ivory valley between my curvaceous contours longs for the mesmerizing moments to linger on. As your fondling fingers carve amorous course to sail in the subterranean stream of my concealed craving. My satin skin smolders in the cinder of intense urge, soothing breeze blows nocturnal ardor of your caress. As it slithers on parched petals of my unfurled body your soft slow hand feels like flitting fireflies. "Your soft slow hand feels like flitting fireflies" - Slow Hand by Maria Williams March 18, 2020 Contest : Poetic Lines From A Poetry Soup Poet - Maria Williams Sponsor : Silent One