Noon Basking
his are whimpers of breath,
lullabies drumming from a rising chest,
his is a soft pat on the head,
a wave of tenderness, trough to crest.
her right hand reaching back,
sensing a nape's outline with touch,
her left hand spider walking,
closing on a leg with a silky clutch.
buttery eyes in half stupor,
weightless minds near limp slumber,
swollen lips distantly throbbing,
tongues muted after flickings limber.
a cheek mere inches from the heart,
the other side kissed by the midday sun,
a moment of reprieve from beastly lust,
whose fiery roars are momentarily gone.
penile twitches against her back's contour,
drying up in its own sweet flaccid time,
reminiscing labias with a head all its own,
inside warm folds of rhythm and rhyme.
mellifluous ecstasy banishing uncertainties,
troubles held at bay by such willing surrenders,
no worries to murk flitting bright hearts,
when raptly swirling in gyres of such breathers.
jumble of sweaty limbs haphazardly entwined,
one languidly quiet and breezy afternoon,
a velvety couch and wispy rays of sunshine,
the leather’s exhales coming none too soon.
Copyright © George Anos | Year Posted 2008
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