Word Art (7)

She sat down in his lap
distributing her weight
evenly across his thighs.
She kissed him first.
Switchblade grin.
Moderate pressure.
A succession
of lingering open-mouthed kisses
deepening with each application.
She would later blush at her initiative.
Modesty rendered gaunt in hindsight.
He stood up with her body
twisted around his torso,
his hands on her buttocks.
Still kissing.
He laid down with her on top of him.
He could feel the pulse
in her jugular vein
when he moved to suck her neck.
He felt it pass into him.
Felt the rhythm of her blood sinking lower,
filling him to capacity.
He threw her wavy hair back
and took hold of her face with both hands.
Scraps of personalia ingested
with every breath that he pried
from her searching mouth.
Her soul was chartreuse.
His soul Robin’s Egg blue.
A dream to surround them both.
A dream poignant enough
to cut the world wide open.
He would wake tasting her.
She would wake marked
with his arousing scent.


4 thoughts on “Wordle #184

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