The Tingling
Pulsing
Throbbing sensation.
The thought
Of your sweet slow
*******.
The approval to claim your
Deepest Redemptions
Your Temptations
Delivering me
Blissful Salvation.
Belly button deep
Seeking for keeps
Your palms grip my hips,
My hips switch
Like a gypsy.
You bewitch me.
Twitching
Writhing
Spell-bound  beneath me.
You beseech me.
Eyeballs rolling back into their rightful sockets
If you can pry the clasps open ill give you the key to the locket
Like Future said,
Ill put your heart in my pocket.
Soaring inside me to destinations reached only by rockets.
Fingers tantalizing hard *******,
Love fluid gushing with rip tide strength ripples.
Mary Jane modeling between my fingers,
Idoling bliss towards the tips,
My fingers seek a settling seat upon the floor of your luscious lips
-Lust at your own risk
Inhale the kush
Push me to the depths of my mattress
Submerge me beyond the sheets,
Beyond the springs underneath,
Beyond the heights of my wildest dreams
Make me shy, make me fly
Provide me your name so I can surrender and scream.

I don't want to be in your bed sheets.
And I don't want you tangled up in mine,
I made my bed this morning.
I don't want you in my bed sheets,
Tangled up in them
Entwined
As if they were the vines of lust,
Binding you to the mirage of Us
The vines of love are coated with dust,
It's dangerous.
It's slippery.
Wet like the ocean as soon as you dip in me.
They say the ocean is deep and within it lie secrets...
Kiss me farewell and dive to the bottom of the seven seas just to keep it.
I don't want to go swimming in my bed sheets.
Then they'd be drenched from the high tides of expired desire
I don't want to wring out the deception that you perspire
I don't want to make my bed again.
My laundry is clean.

She models
With nothing but her earrings on.
Gold tendrils
Dancing across her shoulders
Lost in a sea of black curls.
Her beauty
Is that of an angel.
A halo
Of sheer radiance
Glistening around her wings.
Her body
Is that of a woman.
Lost
In unmarked territory along open winding passageways that
God
Didn't even create a roadmap for.
She can fly,
He said.
The only eyes to witness were her's and God's
And the eyes gazing back at her through the mirror
Watching her model
With nothing but her earrings on.
Gold tendrils
Dancing across her shoulders
Lost in a sea of black curls.

I've been meaning to ask you-
What do you think about a ménage à trois
Mary Jane
And You and Moi.
And
I can envision
You without that shirt.
And you without those draws.
And me without these *******
And me without this bra.
And me on top of you
And you on top of moi
And me screaming your name.
And your eyes glazed in awe.
Meanwhile
My tongue leaves a wet trail along the edge of the blunt,
Your eyes leave a wet trail on my lips.
Lets be upfront
I'll tell you this
The blunt isn't the only thing wet and sticky
And ready to be blitzed.

Sprawled out across the bed sheets,
Basking in the **** under the street
lights.
There is no moon in the city.
There are no stars to wish upon;
Instead wishes are made upon the
flashing lights of shooting jets.
My fingers are jets.
A private direct first class flight,
Traveling non stop to the
flourishing oasis
at the runway of my thighs.

We don't see each other often. Often times its after months on end.
And we don't know each other like we used to...
but when we're together, we're still together. And we love each other like tomorrow is the last day on earth and probably we'll never see each other again.
Then tomorrow comes, and then tomorrow.
And then it seems like yesterday.
And that's history.

... and your name is tattooed somewhere among the walls of my heart, set in the most beautiful frame in the world.
Often times my blood clots for a second while passing by, taking just a moment to glance as my heart skips a beat;
and I smile, dust the glass, and continue flowing on.

Don't be afraid to put your hands on me.
I want to feel the tracing trails of your fingertips
Traveling
To all my sacred landmarks.
A private tour for just your palms to see;
Let me guide you.
Read the rise and fall of my heart with the deep smooth grooves of your
Heart line.
If you were a blind man, how would you picture me?
Sculpt me.
Roam my entire presence with just the
Essence
Of your hands.
Emboss every feature; Figure every swerve,
Untwist every turn; Ride every curve:
This, Is how I Wish, You, To Touch me.