Lips
Twin sets of crimson lips
Smooth as silk and satin
To the caress and kiss.
Their opening moistness,
It does well slake my thirst
And also inflames me
With a potent desire
To fill you with my being.
Before these twin shrines,
Silver and gleaming,
I kneel and adore
To immerse myself
In their sweet ichor,
Washing cares away
In their limpid pools
Where I long to stay.
Bright red and pink the hues
Of those inviting lips
Wherein myself I lose
To join with you as one,
Entwined to fully fuse
Heartbeats in unison.
Copyright © Denis Bruce | Year Posted 2008
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