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
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.
never leave that warmth
if i could help it-
I’d follow him around,
attached at the mouth-
lips meeting lips