By Gala/Wench
Date: 12 March 2000
Erotic Imagining
Oh but there is something about you,
that makes me smell forest mosses
and feel the fine mist
of a waterfall against my skin
on a blister hot day.
You make me hear the surf
pounding the sand,
Make me taste the salt
of your skin,
and make me want to taste more.
You draw my tongue from hiding,
tempt me, tease me,
and hold your hand out
to draw me again into the dance.
You make me smell the jasmine
that grows wild on St. John,
Turn my skin into copper glow,
brush my breasts with lazy fingertips
and laugh softly at the tiny sounds
that come from me.
You take my upper lip
as a soft hostage,
and ask for tribute
without a blessed word.
I turn to liquid satin,
tremble at your touch
and quietly lose my mind
as it tumbles down on me
like a Colorado rapid.
Hard
Soft
Hard
Soft
Hard
Hard
Oh
I love you
when there is nothing between us
but a force of nature,
a heartbeat,
sweet salty sweat
and the nova
that built there
fueled by want
fed by need
and born in the moment
when skin could not hold it all...
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