Her skin felt like cashmere,
And made my cheeks flush
As I felt warmth overflowing inside of me.
I could not help but feel shy at first.

Something that was nice about being with men
Was that there was no urge
To compare them to myself-
This is often inherent between women.

As our limbs became entangled, though,
I was not concerned by whose ******* were larger.
Although we had curves in different places,
It became harder to tell when one sand dune ended
And another began.
I would not mind allowing the wind to blow us into one.

With delicate fingertips I would trace her collarbones
From one side to the other,
And watch as the goosebumps became raised on her skin.
The indent
Where neck meets chest
Looked to me to be exactly where my lips belonged,
And as I heard her breath catch
I knew I was right.

Men do not smell like lavender flowers and warm vanilla.