A subtle second to first person narrative. A conversation about her cabin is the inspiration. A poem about the cajolery of her muliebrity.
As we descend into our togetherness There are her tears and whispers of "be gentle with me" As she condescends into our passion We hold each other firm with messages of skin and heart We fall deeper into each other She has hesitance to fully surrender her body But is caught up into thoughts of his piercing blue eyes Which can seduce her when her clothes are on She shivers and the articulation of gentle kisses On nape and notch (And why now am I thinking of hop scotch?) "Hey! No!" "Kisses, focus on the kisses" As we are warm for each others form And the smell of mahogany in this cabin (In which just moments ago we were both enjoying a good book) And in each other we smother as inhibitions Are now falling away (and the smell of French Toast) Why French Toast when I am enjoying the interrogation Of my lover lips? Oh sweet lover who has gently and caressingly Wooed me into a chase of orgasmic finality And into the afterglow of post coital spooning Wow and whew (with a heavy sigh) Maybe now the French Toast
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