Tuesday, May 29, 2012


It’s what makes a woman smell like a patisserie
Watching as hips tink from side to side enchanting my libido
That top, accentuating curves I long to trace with my eager fingers
A voice that cuts the din, the sound fairies wings make in flight, magical


It’s the wiggle and the jiggle while you brush your teeth, naked, watching mesmerized
Stirring thoughts of you walking away, dropping your clothes for the first time, nothing’s changed
The way I can pick you out in a crowd quickly, and it’s not just visual, I can smell you
The way a dog smells a mate in the next county, you live in my gut and my heart, instinctual


Looking down into my face, the sweat on your lip beading
A hidden level in Dante’s Inferno, one where the torture is lust, unpatrolled
And the rapture created by no means a punishment for uncontrolled desires, aching
I grasp at your flesh and squeeze, handfuls of compliant extremities, fingertips slipping


I look through your wall of flame and wonder how many times, before the heat consumes me
I look through your wall of flame and wonder if some day I will extinguish this feeling
I look through your wall of flame and it starts all over again
I can’t help myself, you are so fucking hot

© 2010 Crowley

No comments:

Post a Comment