The perfection in bent knees
That provoke backs to arch
Makes my insides explode with lust.
But it’s the exposure of said curves
That resemble the outline of mountains
Amid the paintings of the setting sun,
That ignites the fire within.
The genesis and revelation of
Areas saturated with flesh
Makes me beg for mercy
Because something in my soul
Causes my hands to wander,
So much so the creases
In my palm lines are filled with your skin.
I feel with my eyes
And see with my finger tips
The trails in your back
To the path between your breasts
Down to your belly button and beyond
Because that’s where my kisses
Become more tender.
I hear the whispers
My lips murmur on the inside
Of your thighs,
Because the trembling that’s initiated
Gossips about the wetness in your insides
Thus it resembles the calm that comes
From the roar of waterfalls.
You feel like my first taste of palm wine
For I taste your soul
At the apex of my phallus
Because the love I devote
Roams the depths of your core,
And it’s the source of your majestic expressions
The reason for my inebriated disposition.
– Smyekh David-West.

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