what is it that it seeks so desperately
when I see the graceful smile
the smooth skin
the eyes drenched in meaning
drenched in secrets I feel a
primal urge to discover?
is it her softness
that malleability to touch?
my knowing that in her I have a sweet batter
to mold, shape and prepare
as my own cake to savor?
is it her smile, that powerful curve
that shakes my insides as a
storm does a young tree?
do I seek that fizzing tumult
that makes me want to push your buttons again
over and over
and feel your sweet smile tickle me
forever?
is it her warm embrace
the ardent battle our skins wage
when they meet each other like
long-lost best friends, yearning for eons to play?
is it my holding her close to me
her willingness to be held by me
like my child and I hers
to know and tell each other silently
"I'm happy next to you"
and need then nothing else?
is it the smell of her head
just above her temple
among those subtle spirals of fine hair
that sweet aroma that melts my will
and makes me want her as mine
the deep feeling of hidden fatherhood
the sweet longing to care?
or is it the wild intoxication
I dive headfirst into
when your aroused smell enters my nostrils
and I know your body cries out for mine
that willingness of your softness
to yield to my form
to my will, to my container, my desire
my longing to hold you and care you within
as the mother nurtures a child?
are these urges those that pull me
that steer me from my core and groin
is it all of these, or any
the might, perhaps, of their powers combined
combines into a larger, wholer shape
whose edges I merely begin to
understand?
this power can see me become a drooling slave
to her, it might seem, but no
a slave to my own pulls
wild winds that beat my sails haywire
sometimes a willing slave, even miserable
for perhaps the desire truly
is for that ecstatic exhilaration
I feel when tossed and turned
even broken by her winds.
sweet hair, bird's voice, warm heart
I long to feel them close
I note, with clear knowing
that what I long for is not the closeness
but the feeling.
when I see the graceful smile
the smooth skin
the eyes drenched in meaning
drenched in secrets I feel a
primal urge to discover?
is it her softness
that malleability to touch?
my knowing that in her I have a sweet batter
to mold, shape and prepare
as my own cake to savor?
is it her smile, that powerful curve
that shakes my insides as a
storm does a young tree?
do I seek that fizzing tumult
that makes me want to push your buttons again
over and over
and feel your sweet smile tickle me
forever?
is it her warm embrace
the ardent battle our skins wage
when they meet each other like
long-lost best friends, yearning for eons to play?
is it my holding her close to me
her willingness to be held by me
like my child and I hers
to know and tell each other silently
"I'm happy next to you"
and need then nothing else?
is it the smell of her head
just above her temple
among those subtle spirals of fine hair
that sweet aroma that melts my will
and makes me want her as mine
the deep feeling of hidden fatherhood
the sweet longing to care?
or is it the wild intoxication
I dive headfirst into
when your aroused smell enters my nostrils
and I know your body cries out for mine
that willingness of your softness
to yield to my form
to my will, to my container, my desire
my longing to hold you and care you within
as the mother nurtures a child?
are these urges those that pull me
that steer me from my core and groin
is it all of these, or any
the might, perhaps, of their powers combined
combines into a larger, wholer shape
whose edges I merely begin to
understand?
this power can see me become a drooling slave
to her, it might seem, but no
a slave to my own pulls
wild winds that beat my sails haywire
sometimes a willing slave, even miserable
for perhaps the desire truly
is for that ecstatic exhilaration
I feel when tossed and turned
even broken by her winds.
sweet hair, bird's voice, warm heart
I long to feel them close
I note, with clear knowing
that what I long for is not the closeness
but the feeling.
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