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The sensation of her lips
Are soft and velvety.
They taste like sweet ripe strawberries
A candied flavor I can’t resist.
Her tongue dances in my mouth
Wet, and meekly warm
Making everything else hot
My own fleshy, muscular organ
Imitates every single passionate stroke
That are performed by hers
A faint sound escapes my throat
While she greedily sucks out my air
Making this prevailing atmosphere
Disorienting and perplexing
Her kisses are addicting
Soft and sweet like cotton candy.
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YOU ARE READING
The Pains Of Being Me
PoésieI am bent, but not broken. Scarred, but not disfigured. Sad, but not hopeless. Tired, but not lifeless. Alone, but not powerless. Angry, but not bitter. Distant, but not emotionless. Lonely, but not loveless. Depressed... but not weak. In the end, I...
