I would savor his skin,
The perfumed-flesh heat,
Scenting, emanating from his back,
My fingers glaze on the silk,
The milky skin clashes with my darker one,
I feel my movements,
Slow and electric.
Slow and neurotic.
Slow and psychotic.
Tracing it like a dream,
Upon a veil that hovers over my eyes,
How can an unholy,
Be blessed, kissed on the forehead by the father the son and the Holy Ghost
I lose myself in the journey upon your body,
I lose track of space,
I lose track of time,
I lose track of any track their might have been.
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Quotes and Poems
PoetryQuote and Poems are where we find something to hold onto, it's a way of letting all your feelings out.
