Passion

He runs his fingers through your		
hair
With each stare
A kiss of passion left you
bare, 
Your inner most secrets seemed
to fly out of the door, 
but when he unzipped your pants
The sensation of emotions filled
you to the core.
He begins to enter your pool of
roaming, 
Moaning to the actions of each
thrust one can trust.
The education he's teaching can
be taught as lust.
The venture took you to another
place, 
As he sips on the fine wine and
face.
The dribble did not go to waste, 
cause he went down for another taste.
The both of you reached 
High peeks
discrete, yet reaching the goals each seeks
that will last for weeks.
Making love is an art and fashion
When it can give you a since of
' passion'. 

Tiffany Saxon
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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