Disclaimer: This poem contains MATURE content, meaning that if you are
not mature enough to understand the beauty of words, you prolly
shouldn't be reading this.




To my lover and my wife





Her pale alabaster skin
The stark light
Against our silken sheets
Glistening sweat
Intermingled
As the passion consumes
Us

Hungered kisses
Fiery gazes
As our bodies entwine
Nipples harden, thighs moisten
And the moans begin
While the raw scent of our sex
Permeates
Every quivering gasp
That escapes my lips

Her mouth, the fire
Drawing lustful designs
Upon my flesh
Writhing in pleasure
Nothing left, besides our need

Hands molding to the curves
Of her breasts, teasing nipples
Fingers finding
Sliding into her velvet wetness
Struggling with the building heat
Until it overcomes us
In one truly luminescent moment

Tingling bodies pressed
In a circle of arms
Among the rumpled sheets
As we drift to
Sleep


Penned by my hand on the 17th of Sarapin, in the year 380 AF.