Kindle
O sweet touches, tell me low:
"How does your skin age so slow?"
Wanting fingers trail hello, how can those eyes just watch me so?
Like children running along my back, I feel your hand ask for a snack.
Letting it follow my inner thigh, my eyes glare to yours:
"You won't survive..."
A simple smile that whispers more, a hand retracts to my face's shore.
Bubbling on top of my nose and lips, other fingers dance upon my hips;
shallow grasping starts to pour; O this man I shall adore!
Hard kisses turn to small bites
Playful digits take off sites
Eyes stay open...no missing right?
For we can kindle, this Valentine's night.
Copyright © Jessica Arteaga | Year Posted 2011
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