You appear to be a tall glass of water in the scorching degrees of July.
My mouth waters for you,
I thirst for you.
My lust for you like dripping honey,
Honey that drips from your body into a steaming cup of tea.
I drink,
But the thirst is there.
The thirst becomes something,
More.
Much more.
The thirst becomes more than sexual attraction,
Or lust.
It becomes love.
The water moves as I dive in head first.
spreading myself open at your every movement.
YOU ARE READING
Woman.
PoetryA book of poems and feelings. A book from a girl, a rose from the concrete. A Woman growing.
