05-20-2012, 07:52 PM
Feather-light glances
Brush my bare skin
Igniting shivers of desire
The taste of her lips on my tongue
Though we’re yet to touch
Barely inches apart
The tease only surpassed
By tender fingertips whispering
Fire into my electrified nerves
Arching blue beneath my skin
Ambrosia of the Gods in my veins
Brush my bare skin
Igniting shivers of desire
The taste of her lips on my tongue
Though we’re yet to touch
Barely inches apart
The tease only surpassed
By tender fingertips whispering
Fire into my electrified nerves
Arching blue beneath my skin
Ambrosia of the Gods in my veins
"Poets are shameless with their experiences: they exploit them." - Friedrich Nietzsche