She kisses like an artist would
Meticulous
with bits of the raging sea
etched onto her tongue
It would lap away at me
just like that sand
and I could almost taste it
When she would hover above me
Only she would be able
to distinguish which notes to play
When those exquisite fingers
would skim across my pulse
To press lightly
feeding off of my stifling sounds
Eyes alive and smoldering
Like spice that catches
onto your skin
A regale of delicacies
Ripe and ready
for bursting passion
and soft curves
For those dirty taunts
to lick across your skin
In the form of her hand
It was as easy as breathing for her
When she would seal her lips
over mine
atop featherlight pillows
Her tongue
sang the music of love
against my lips
That poisonous fruit
just as wicked as that serpent
Éloa 