By Chris W.
Date: 14 July 2000
Touching Tongues (title borrowed from guitarist Steve Vai)
Slow in, to inflame the anticipation.
One hand begins at the slope of your cheek,
and moves, guided by the tip of a finger
below your ear to the back of your perfect neck,
to pet the soft hairs there.
The other, finding your hip and travelling
to the curve of your back, one thumb
just under your shirt...an indication
of things to come.
Close now, my lips graze yours,
but I do not press full, and we must wait
just a bit longer.
The tip of my tongue gently traces
your upper lip just inside, warm and smooth.
It is discipline for me as well,
for lips so full and wanting are
difficult to deny for very long.
Mouths, impassioned and expectant,
await eachother slightly open,
emitting the barely controlled pants,
warm and moist,
of a temporarily contained lust.
Your tongue meets mine, and you,
caving first, close the gap.
Our faces meet with mouths wide,
tongues dancing intimately.
I can just smell your hair
as it dangles near me,
and it makes the moment taste all the sweeter.
Bodies press as my hands begin to learn
every muscle of your back, your shoulders, your neck.
There is a rhythm now to our movement, fluid,
mimicking what more could be this night.
But all the while, I taste you, and taste you,
and taste you.
Back to the Heart-on-Sleeve Corner