Your mouth is open like an early spring flower
And there it waits for me, poised like a lure.
You are biting on your lip, my eyes are transfixed,
My thoughts here now are anything but pure.
If I kiss you, it will be like I’m in quicksand
I will have no escape and no release,
Yet I will be in the throes of blissful freedom
I’ll feel a sense of soothing, aching peace.
Like windblown flowers, our tongues touch then separate
Then on each other ravenously feed
Like anxious and yearning lustful, starving creatures
With a hot bleeding agonising need.
Long before, you will have had me where you want me,
I will surrender to your invasion,
I will offer up no discord or dissension
To your sultry soft mouth’s pink persuasion.