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Poetry

it isn't always as it seems. first breaths of love, first breaks of hearts, first year. October 2013 - May 2015

tired eyes

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by lexturient

by lexturient

The edge of the bag is draped across my legs,

intertwined with yours,

eyes closed,

where are the sweet chocolates I desire?

A poke and prod,

a gentle sigh,

a giggle of resolute succees.

"Come on in, princess."

"Gladly."

Skin against skin,

cotton against fleece,

soft in their meeting,

rough in their release.

Lips against lips,

hand against flesh,

cool in their touch,

warm in their reception.