Her skin is flower petals,
Her mouth a tropical destination,
Humid and exotic.
Her gasps are mine to swallow,
To weave into my own nerve endings.
Her neck is the curve of a mountain,
The hollow of her throat the valley,
Carved from the most exquisite marble.
In my dreams, I can taste her skin,
Saline and sweet.
To the curves and swells,
Like the hills in Elysium.
Hips the rising of tides,
The arch of her spine
A road map to travel with my tongue.
And at the heart of her is an ocean
For me to delve into,
Until the dam breaks
And she bursts forth,
Shattering into countless, infinitesimal pieces
For me to kiss back together,
Collapsing in on herself.
And she laughs,
While the wattage of the sun turns up,
And I melt away.
*Note: photo does not belong to me