Intimacy (Let Me Cross Your Line)
I'd love just to taste your sweat on the tip of my tongue…
Watch as it drips from the tips of your body posed inches above my lips.
To slide my fingertips along the contour of your frame, feeling every crevice, longing to fill
every crevice…
Squeezing tight as I'm afraid to let go.
Thoughts of my skin pressed firmly against yours.
I slide my body, from my face to my waist,
Slowly and strongly along your wet floors…
Through your deep valley soaking and bathing in the freshness of what can only be
described as the morning dew from the dream of a goddess…
Hungry…
Thirsty…
Yearning for fulfillment, but forced to contain my beast of desire that has to live vicariously
through my fingertips, As I dream of them racing along your spine.
Let me drink from your mind’s sweet sexual wine.
Let me bask in your sunshine.
Let me cross your line…
Perplexed in a nexus of desire and interest, my fire intenses as I straddle your fences…
Let down your defenses and invite my soul in.
I desire to be much more to you than just a lover and a friend…
If I could,
your skin,
I would,
fit in…
And erase the threshold of space between us…
Indistinguishable will be us,
my body speaks your body’s English…
Junkie to your kiss, strung out praying my pusha re-ups…
Baby-girl, I need just another touch. Memories won’t please us.
Please, just ease us.
Squeeze us.
My knees rust when I see your eyes I become weak, count-down for blastoff and we bust…
And thus, it increases.
These fires of desires so fine and defined…
Let me drink your sweet sexual wine.
Let me bask in your sun.
Let me cross your line…
Copyright © Marcus Thompson | Year Posted 2010
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