There was such new found pleasure
in the intoxicating drink of
your liquid-love of a smile,
like Dionysius,
you drive me mad, absolutely mad,
making me drunk off of your
wet, wine coloured lips,
and how warm your static,
rough-velvet voice can be
when placed in the shallow
crook of my waiting neck,
making my toes curl up
like shy flower petals as your
heavy breaths crash against me,
the soft feel of your skin,
each pore laced with
the cyanide of a lovely lions pride
that left no guess as to
the steel-oak strength
hidden within you and I still
dream of the days
that we melted together
under those fluff-feathered sheets
and how you finally stopped
pulling away, instead starting to
arch up into me at the feel of
my bittersweet kiss
YOU ARE READING
Roses, Cherry Vodka & Her Perfume
PoetryA collection of (almost) love poetry inspired by my beautiful and exotic princess of a muse. (Please please please read and leave comments, I need some critics because I wanna give this to her as a present)
