His Lips Crush Mine
I find my heaven,
in his eyes, his lips, and his touch;
I love stroking his thick hair so raven,
as his whispers make me blush.
Our fingers entwine and his lips crush mine,
'till we are soaring- higher, higher, higher we climb;
our passion is almost pain,
bodies moving in time, thirsty, two hearts wildly beating;
and we soar again, again, again- an end seeking,
then, we lay wrapped together . . . gasping.
June 28, 2020
Poetry/Rhyme/His Lips Crush Mine
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1263-648-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Sensuality
sponsor, Silent One
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2020
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