Holding the luxury of you,
Close to my body,
Every ounce of you,


Feeling the steaminess
Of your breath,
On my neck,
Longing for the oasis
Of you.

Looking at your lustrous eyes,
Seeing beyond the now,
To something perfect…

To us.

Kissing you, gently,

And succumbing
To your lips
Agressively demanding

Feeling your hands
On my body,
Not simply a massage,
But a prelude…

To more.

Sensing a rising,
A building,
A filling…

In our muscles,
And the chiffon of our

Nothing more stimulating…

More sexy…

Than you,

With me.



Is my definition of




© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

Categories PoetryTags , , ,

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