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Apr 2019
You
On you the scent of sweat and alcohol is perfume,
Every part of you calls to me here in the darkness of my room,
Do I listen to the soft silk of your hair?
Or the sound the moon makes caressing your skin so sublimely fair?
The sounds you make as we lay there,
Your breath, your words, symphonies to my ear.

Once, the golden sun kissed waters of emerald,
Exulting with bliss, the pink skies its herald,
Of the joy that comes from goodbyes well said,
And the last sight seen, his lover on her ocean bed,
Yet had he caught sight of you upon my chest so daintily arrayed,
The world would never again know night, on you his gaze would stay.

My ears are blessed with melodies from your lips,
Your smile mesmerising as I caress your hips,
My eyes close but my sight remains favoured,
By the nimbus of your beauty warm and meant to be savoured,
Then you lay still and Iā€™m enraptured by your presence,
The way your heat seeps through me while I sip your essence.

You occupy every ounce of desire my mind contains,
My passion, your sighs and exultations sustain,
And as you dip below the horizon of sanity,
Driven by the way my tongue celebrates our humanity,
You adorn my embrace with the effortless allure of your shape,
And Iā€™m lost once again revelling in the remnants of your taste.
Written by
Hopeful Cynic  24/M
(24/M)   
324
 
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