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I lay upon the crisp sheets
pillows adorned with soft down
compliment the white angelic
beauty of this linen. I know
what awaits for me.
it is him.
Inhaling his scent,
my body turns to face him
as we shadow dance in the dark. The pale moon
bounces off the sheer curtains
playfully unto my skin in the presence of this
undefined space,
his chocolate mocha skin undeniable and smooth
his lips, warm and soft.
indulgence of the highest pedigree as I increase
the seconds to which he
enters me. soulful and hedonistic
his smooth circles sway
my hips in unified and
synchronized rhythms as
he again and again and again
presses his lips to the
this and that of the nape of my neck
and he pulls me deeper and inches
I arch my back.
I want more. Give me more.
forms as beads trickled to
my middle of increasing moistness
skin to skin gliding
Trying to hold back. Fighting
the thunderous buildup which he again and again
licks from the sweet cup out from which I
flow a river of satisfaction
And I think to myself
this is beyond infatuation-
in this moment, he is mine
and i am his
internalized sweet temptation.
he rocks that sway from side to side
thunderous rain clouds
do not disturb the hurricane which is inside
as pelted rain hits the glass of the pane
yet I refuse to remove
what is within me.
I am utterly and smoothly
and truly and purely
magnetized to his hips-
i mean, he moves the this and that
with that sway to shudder the
electric fire of touched skin
and I am pure woman in him
and i reek of desire.

He speaks.
I listen.

He tells me to inch deeper
through the hand over my lower back
have me climbing peaks over mountains
have me shadow dance
over the lyrical track of
synchronized and labored breathing
he is the reason
for my being
in this moment, I listen.
he tells me to moan and scream
as silence is no reaction.
he wants to hear my voice speak in languages that
are foreign, tongues that are only recognized through
pure intimacy sprinkled with a dab of ecstasy
that two lovers comprehend through the
unison of love making.
He tells me he wants more
through the dismissal of the
rising sun.

and I hear
him and morning sounds
breakfast smells like fresh ground coffee brewing
and dewy mist from the rain last night.
yet, he needs no caffeinated drug in his cup
as I am his java
to make his mouth salivate
and he desires not to increase his speed
but to smoothly
and delicately
make love to me.

he pulls me closer.
the linen, exhausted and full of wrinkles
the sun shining at our faces
we relax in this moment
sharing the ultimate beauty
that only making love
can create
from night

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