I don’t know why I keep
thinking about you,
but there’s something
about your **** goldenness
that keeps me locked
in your sumptuous love,
staring at your fine
and chiseled features,
desiring to be held by you,
to smell your rare, refreshing scent,
engulfed in your swagalicious thugness.

I love to jam to your masculinity,
going crazy in your exhilarating
dream machine, feeling enchanted
and supreme in your flowering highs,
my mind encircling your castle
of smoldering steaminess,
tripping over your drip,
eager to get lit with you,
smoking and flowing
to the glowing passion
encompassing our bodies,
anxious to grind on you,
put it down for you,
to strip for you,
being all ripe for you.