How, like a vine, your scent does cling to me,
sweet, and spicy, like a breeze in Autumn.
How, like a sword, your desire’s so keen,
sharp, and honed, like the bracts on dried cotton.
Lost in your passion, ecstasy consumes,
while eyes, from below, peak at joggling mounds.
As wondering hands, do seek to entomb,
following the curves of beauty, in bounds.
Breathless whispers brush past sensitive ears,
triggering shivers, that cause full body shakes.
Intimacy, so rare, consumes all fears,
erasing demons, with each body quake.
Call out to me, my name leaving your lips,
share, with me, your honey, let me slow sip.