I am hungry 4 you. I wnt to taste the tawny color of your shoulders and savor the aroma that my brain registers I wnt to suffer small kisses along the small of your back up the curve of your spine with delights to the muscles on the side.
Did you questions whether I meant it this time? I freely admit it; I’m more than hrny. I am famished for the look in your eyes. I am ravenous for the comfort of your ams around me. I am emaciated for the lack of your sweet lips at my neck, ears and cheek. It really ain’t about a nut!
I am afraid and will continue to be but, when you arrive by my side, I will be valiant and invincible.
Who was afraid this time? Offering reasons why I would reject you, and not need you, not want you minute by sweet minute.
II
I wnted to resist, but was falling headlong, kicking and screaming; pawing the ground. Had I known, I wld have made a pretty dive with twists and flips . . .
[real love is a comfort to fall in] a canopied tropical lagoon scented with orchids and pomegranate
Sometimes it hurts too.
Who is not afraid of finding the One who will press me to deal with real love? Disdaining selfishness, my loving partner. Lust, my constant companion or even Self-pity, my world-shield.
I don’t want to deal with that One (nevermind I’ve been looking for her forever)!
I am thirsty 4 U, I wnt to drink the sound of your voice rasping my name in a wanton whisper. I am intoxicated by the depth of your eyes. I am stalking the darkness of your pool, pushing past reeds and grasses because I smell the wetness