Subterfuge

Masked;
warm felted leather
laced up; tightly
inhaling seconds worth of air
brushed softly,
dusting up firmly planted legs
hips width apart
tide turning oceans crest into bodies of revelry
rebeliously,
the room overcomes the scent of timid jasmine blooms
a slave to the oak,
leather,
and steely cool of desire
bowing to the soft sting of tempestous ardor,
devoured,
cowering in desperation
acquiescing to the burgeoning beckon
resonating between every coveted call to the senses
to taste...
suspense is in season
and the skins of your teeth
are ripe