Season Words
He is tired of the winter
Wants to be familiar
With the heat
I keep
Between
Below
Inside of me
He wants the summer
Under
Bright white sheets
Colored by me
He
Craves honey
Warm like the sun
The sweet he says
He can taste on my tongue
He wants some
Summer love
Like cotton candy,
Lemonade,
Long late nights
He likes the thought of this
The sight of skin
That glistens
Glows
Goes hot under hard hands
He likes
How copper compliments
His lips
I invite him to kiss
To lose himself in this
He wants the room
Heavy, humid, ruined
By the mess we make
As he takes
Liberties
With me
And my bare flesh
He wants it wet
Summer rain
He makes
With the promise
Of his thunder
He wants to sink
I concede and he proceeds
To Go
Down
Under
With haste he takes the love below
I shudder, gasp and grasp
The wonder
Of his gorgeous greedy mouth
On the fruit he’s found
He wants a summer slice of peach
I have lost my speech
He eats
He treats
Himself to second helpings
Right down to the pit
His chin
Is slick
With wit
He licks his lips
He winks
And quickly lifts
Turns me over
The summers made him drunk
With lust,
He grips my waist
In haste to stall the sober
I find my laugh
Pushed into the pillows
Then quickly lost
As earthquakes make
My body quiver
He is breaking
Low hot storms
Across
The curves
That form folded over
So he’s closer
Closer
Reaching
Weakly
For the sheets
Crushed beneath
I clench my teeth
He keeps
The drive strong
Long strokes of genius
Making lighting
Between us
He catches my cries
Like fireflies
In his palms
His breath on my neck
Whispers gentle
Words calm
He’s gone
A warm flush rushed
Along my seams
His chest hot at my back
Breathing deep
And damp
The quiet hush
Of after hours
Summer camps
Itself along our edges
Resting pleasant
In the wake of us
I smile
And feel his own
Against my hair
Summer settles down and now
The memory makes me
Shiver
Not quite cold but his soul
Is sold that it must be winter
And in that dangerous voice
He whispers
Its time to try another
Taste of your
Sweetly heated
Summer
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