YEARNING
I’m yearning for your body, hot and burning,
heart beating, hands reaching for your femininity and every part of your physicality.
Both eyes closed as if in a dream.
A non-entity, being my reality.
Defining your sexuality in a mosh of uninhibited rhapsody.
In all actuality there is nothing between us but space and opportunity.
So let’s do it blind folded by the dark,
void of light.
Your body is a book written in braille,
my hands are my sight.
Flipping through your pages and you look amazing tonight.
All I see is you engulfed in love,
covered in kisses, drowning in lust.
Me in the middle with every single thrust.
You lay wet beneath me with each drop of sweat.
While I push and they drip, then splash on your breast.
While I’ve become aroused to the sound of sex.
Like the smack of our skin when our bodies crash and wreck.
And the moan you make when my lips touch your neck.
Then I push and retract.
You pull me in as you arch your back.
Your eyes roll back while you claw my back.
I turn you over and thrust from the back.
You look back at me and throw it back,
and back, and back, and back!
Until we reach the climax.
Until we change the climate.
When we are both relaxed, and we’re both smiling.
Then we drift away and fade to black, black, black.
But before we are gone too far we reach for more, more, more.
Chasing passion into infinity and beyond.
Feeding fuel to the fire, and light to the sun.
My trigger finger itches and you are my gun.
I scratch, I pull, and bullets do fly,
caressing my body, impact the bullseye.
Leaving me yearning for your body,
hot and burning, pain freaking, heart beating,
hands reaching for your femininity,
and every part of your physicality.
Michael Lovett
http://www.michaellovettwrites.com
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Michael Lovett 