Tuesday, August 8, 2017


My eyes know you,
like the curl of a country road
lined with trees and blushed in leaves
to be taken by my wheels. . .
the gravity of thrills devouring my will
as I trace your dangerous curves.

My body knows you,
the rhythm intensifies my heartbeat
Sweat, beads as little tents in the desert
as I forget myself . . .
you are the moonlight on my skin, how you burn
as I ruthlessly throb and grind, probing for moisture.

My senses know you,
the scent of cookies, fresh and sweet
the joy of ginger biting my lips, my tongue
as I take another nibble. . .
the delight of cotton candy on a ferris wheel
our turn, spreads all the world before us.

My soul draws nearer to yours,
like a firefly in the summer night
landing on your outstretched finger tip
glowing my little butt off. . .
you are the summer to my life's story.

A reverent finger helping me turn the pages
with same care, as I would do for you.

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