Tempting Submission
There she was...
Her appearance too surreal for a misses.
Insetting Spring's grandiose blossoms.
Offset by the natural sophisticate of the fourth dimension,
Which I thought was time.
It's essence became non existent
in concentrated vials,
thick enough to flatten perspectives, linear.
Such is no more, her curves weaken the most conditioned of knees.
Who knew beauty could impair
One's perception of depth? alter realities?
Her shape is geometry at it's most potent.
And my eyes, the beholder of such delicacies...
to feel is to hold her delicately,
whether, in sight, memory, or arms.
Raised pores confess to the mutual charming of dermis's--my lower member reaffirms this.
I inhale, then my mind sets sail to an island of perversion,
where I see the emersion of tides teasing the sand at the shore.
And it's outlet-a canal, where I should be plugged in.
Whilst the outcome of my words
caress the rims of the waters edge.
Each pronunciation as a stroke
rubbed down with whispers.
Many seek salvation,
but who knew the pearly gates opened at her enchanted legs.
If nirvana is temporary then I shall live for the moment.
I exhale on her neck, when in my grasp
she drips on my endowment in feeble hopes to cool the hardened heat that has her melting; unstable contractions and heightened sensitivity to my breath.
Her moans cry out the lessons I had planned.
Flattery has different forms and in the shadow of my actions my words aren't saying much.
The verbals may mimic but can not shape a touch.
One can not speak for tomorrow,
today is but barely mines,
but fair damsel this is all I have
and if to seize anything, may it be all of your loveliness.
Now Carpe Diem is to be painted modeled after you laying with me.
Yet she is so highly guarded, and the restrictions make it difficult for anything to blossom.
She thinks all I want is the physical but little does she know intercourse is only how I profess what the tongue can not project.
My thoughts of her will remain pure afterwards.
No elements can tarnish such a gem.
She may let go of any pain, and I may assist;
a rose in the concrete, a boquae in one flower.
When I palm her gracefulness I know I'm not alone in the intensity of exchanges felt.
Change is good,
That's how we grow.
Our most defining moments are those which require us to do something outside of our norms.
I like that she tries to make things harder but all the while I know her lower lips salivate.
Succumbing to the masculine energy
leaves indispensable grins on a celestial, feminine entity.
Before my imperative return your psyche mocks my perfume
My groping will linger long after like the scents (sense) she claims it won't make.
How can you tell if the odor is fresh if you're breathing the same stale air...
©username
U