Whatever happens with us, your body will haunt mine—tender, delicate your lovemaking, like the half-curled frond of the fiddlehead fern in forests just washed by sun. Your traveled, generous thighs between which my whole face has come and come— the innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found there— the live, insatiate dance of your sword in my mouth— your touch on me, firm, protective, searching me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers reaching where I had been waiting for years for you in my rose-wet cave—whatever happens, this is. https://youtube/watch?v=eS9de6gEbZc
Posted on: Sat, 10 Jan 2015 18:03:06 +0000
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