Your lips catch onto mine
And I fall hook, line, and sinker.
The friction your hips create, sliding across mine,
Imitate the drag of my lungs
When you first declared your love for me.
I kiss the freckles on your hipbone;
Orion's little constellation.
You guide my mouth to where it needs to be
Even though I don't know what I am doing,
Even though this is my first time.
You taste like musk and salt.
And when your eyes reopen,
You pull me up and kiss my forehead.
"Perfect."
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 6:35 AM UTC
Your lips catch onto mine
And I fall hook, line, and sinker.
The friction your hips create, sliding across mine,
Imitate the drag of my lungs
When you first declared your love for me.
I kiss the freckles on your hipbone;
Orion's little constellation.
You guide my mouth to where it needs to be
Even though I don't know what I am doing,
Even though this is my first time.
You taste like musk and salt.
And when your eyes reopen,
You pull me up and kiss my forehead.
"Perfect."
This was actually a challenge by a friend, to write about *** I wanted to use French, because things always sound better in another language!
Request permission to use this poem