Mind fuck you're appetite
I’ve always feared that if our eyes connected for more than a second, you’d be able to undress every word I ever spoke, and revealed would be the thoughts I never wished to expose.
I questioned you once before, wanting to know what should you do with the desire to physically be with someone
But, I should have rearranged my closet, so that the outfit of questions I chose to wear, would display the silhouette of feelings, that would pique your interest to want to divulge in my cabinet of secrets.
Secrets that’s victoriously is locked up drawers, that only you have the KEYS to unlock. You taught me intimacy. And I’m honored to be able to please you, in ways that you haven’t given your significant other the authority to. But, regardless of her position, I’ve never been your mistress, though you continuously make love to me…
Foreplay.
I recognized one night, I left you speechless.
You always tell me, what you’ve imagined… and I promise your fantasies will be fulfilled.
You said profound… but did you ever expect my oral to be an oracle?
Has your mind yet fancied around, how I wrapped my tongue around what I wish to enter me..
How sometimes, I get so parasitical… literally, sucking out your energy, and preparing you for what you’ll eventually get lost in..
Your cockiness appeals to me. And as hard as your defenses are in the beginning, with time, and skill it melts simultaneously. I’m a nymphomaniac. More so, a maniac at making you come, cause I’m enamored at your substance, wanting it to always secrete. I’m a master at understanding, when you’re reaching your pinnacles of fulfillment, cause sometimes, you jerk away from my graces, but believe, my reflexes reel you back in to where you need to be. Cause the only thing that will ever leak, is your pride that ultimately escapes within me.
I’m lusting off of opportunities, better yet, the stimulation you endow on me.
Your tongue has always provided a pleasure.
Though, sometimes it mirrors a sword, slicing up the enchantments I desperately crave for you to drown in.
You always engulf my sensitivity. Feasting on the way, I get so vulnerable. I’m perpetually fragile to the way you envelop my throbbing requests to receive more and more of you. I’ve always enjoyed the way you tasted every ounce of me. Swallowing everything I poured out, never spitting back what I thought would have clogged your intestines. Amazed at your appetite, and the way you digested and assimilated each meal.
I’ve role played before. But, you always make me your entrée. And sometimes, I transformed into your personal buffet, supplying all your favorite rations, but you always know how to ration. Never greedy. You take absolutely all you can eat.
They say a way to a man’s heart, is through his stomach… and I’m most certain, everything I feed you is qualifying…
Intercourse.
My favorite part, is the first entrance. The way you spread apart walls, and waltz into the confinements of my core. How your pensive eyes, deliberately translates the languages I thought were foreign to your native tongue. Noticing that my disposition, only constructs your position and pace. However I choose to arch my back, or cling to sheets that we’ve made, & are purposely lying in, only cause you to stroke deeper into what I try to conceal.
You called me deceptive.
Said, both good & bad.
But, I’m only wishing to make you believe that I can handle every thrust you emancipate, that I allow you to vibrate my nerves, causing my spine to become cymbals, shimmering from each caress to be relaxed. Relaxed in this moment. Because, your intentions are good. You’re being as gentle, and firm as a lover could be.
Sex allows our bodies to speak, positions only being conversations.
And, since you’re so observant, have you observed how bipolar I am, when making love to you?
That my favoritism in certain position withers, depending on how I wish to service and be serviced?
That, certain nights at Jefferson, I love to dominate.
Direct, the ride of our pleasure. That I enjoy, to wind up the roller coasters of our emotions, and plunge down till they’re drained…
Or, that I love being so submissive to your command, that I’m sometimes situated to where our eyes can’t meet, giving you the ability to govern the route our sentiments must shift, in order to arrive at sovereignty and understanding.
Either way, we reach our destiny. Releasing oceans of emotions, that sometimes stain our garments of innocence, that we leave unspoken for the world, making it evident, that our essences are relatives…
For we relate beyond exceptional acknowledgement.
When we lost our relations virginity, to caught up in the moment
Bliss surpassing our morale, we never protected ourselves.
Only impregnating me with wonders of what should have been between us..
Miscarried.
The chance to know, has never been birthed.
And we’ve only become sterile, making it unbearable to conceive the development of another opportunity… FRIENDSHIP
Have you figured yet, this poem was about you?
Or, is that too a stupid question?
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