No more a hidden
continent,
now I know
the last of the secrets
you hold
within your geography.
Your armpit sweat
smells hay
and psychedelic mushrooms,
your saliva
has the the  taste of
winter sun light.
A full moon night
your secret  forests have diffused.
I get a taste of mint
mixed with
a dash of musk,
exploring the depths.
Your fruits aren't
the  kind of sweet
I hate,
I dig their tarty taste.
Your voice turns
a husky shiver
when you moist,
I can't help it;
I melt when I see it.
Your long nails
have a thirst for my blood,
when we touch each other
intimately with tenderness.
Gritting your teeth,
you lung forward,
as if you want to eat.
Your eyes get wild,
you are a tigress in heat.