“Uncommon sense”
I see….
my eyes laying on flesh while you stare down my heart as you undress.
My muscles cry out as my heart beats thru my chest.
No mistake will be made on my “part“…
Everything you spill and drip will be on purpose.
I hear….
Your voice as it tries desperately to sound sure of itself ,
constantly broken and frail as it sorts thru the bliss.
I need to caress your skin…. I’ve grown tired of the typical kiss.
I taste…..
Your joy, as you pause and breath deeply as you squeeze my torso tighter than a farewell embrace.
My hunger for you runs too deep for the tongue to require reasoning .
All I require is your heavy cream…I’ll supply the nutmeg for seasoning.
I smell….
Your fear, as you run from my touch,
Silky bed sheets restricting your movement like I spiders web.
The sweet fragrance of pliable flesh moving thru my hands as you squirm and clutch.
I touch……
Your hidden thoughts, I probe away at your brains very core,
venturing far beyond where others have gone.
I cherish the opportunity to seek the real you….this sensation is uncommon and there so much to explore.
Anthony R. Barber Jr.
AS ALWAYS...ANY UPVOTES, AND OR FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED ALWAYS...I LOVE HEARING WHAT OTHER THOUGHT OF MY ART
"PEACE"