Touch

Photo by Adam Kontor on Pexels

She blooms to my touch,
and every inch of her precious form
is accentuated by the sunlight
that slowly glides beyond the horizon.

Her hands trace me, softly,
with confidence and chaotic purpose,
our thirst intensifies,
a spark becomes a wildfire,
our bodies knotted like vines across a jungle floor,
breaths harmonizing a
sonorous rhythm of lustful satisfaction.

I yearn to drive her crazy
when I catch her sensual eyes;
to sate our appetites for carnality,
to spend each night making love
beneath the watchful eyes of the
heavens, to embrace one another
in the safe harbor of darkness.

— — — — — — — —

Kevin E. Pittack Jr., 2020