Poetry

His Mouth

His mouth-

God his mouth. My lips curl upwards

just thinking about it.

His mouth is

the warm place;

the place where everything else fades away

to background noise

and meaningless chatter,

the place which settles everything

still raging

in my soul.

His lips brush mine and

everything starts to fade away-

his mouth is like a temple with a great tongue God

which curls and then snakes lazily

until meeting me head on

in a kind of strong yet softest massage.

He holds me in a state of bliss-

warm and soft and so completely certain;

utterly and entirely addictive.

I would

never leave that warmth

if i could help it-

I’d follow him around,

attached at the mouth-

lips meeting lips

always.

 

 

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “His Mouth

  1. I met an Indian when I was in Hong Kong and the effect was quite the same. You are very lucky to have someone who can do such things – but also back them up in the emotional realm.

    I wish you much happiness, the happiness that is found in someone as close to you as this.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s