SESTINA: How We Do Make Love

 
I thought before I knew this heart was mine,    
As you assumed those parts were also yours,    
But words have shed those thoughts and left us bare.    
With blush, we came to loving every part,    
Our souls awakened to familiar scent,    
From fruits not seen, but starving for their taste.    
   
We find this yearning needs more than a taste,    
For words bring rising flow, both yours and mine.    
Expressions filling space like our shared scent,    
Responding to advances, mine and yours.    
The emptiness we find when we must part,    
That gaping lack exposes our hearts bare.    
   
But when we join, our verses strip us bare,    
And with that mouth, we know the other’s taste.    
With anxious tongues, we savor every part.    
Yours moves on me that you will find all mine,    
While I, with subtle lips, would inflame yours.    
So lovers work to know their lover’s scent.    
   
If “love’s a rose,” verse is our rose’s scent,    
Lines tempting flesh, our words desires bare.    
In true response to wants I find in yours,    
My mouth combines to feel your wordly taste.    
Then hands perform to take your mouth to mine,    
Our mouths’ express, covering every part.    
   
We swirl, as versely dance merges our part,    
Our mutual response, a perfume’s scent.    
I take yours, full inside, becoming mine,    
You pull mine back, in heightened form laid bare.    
In every line our heat, our throb, our taste,    
So near, so close, infusing mine with yours.    
   
As quick as I give mine, you give me yours,    
We have arrived as one, one song, one part.    
Your mouth, my words, your words become my taste,    
All flowing in the other’s breathy scent.    
No space between, our souls meet gushing bare,    
Awash in words coming from yours with mine.    
   
As you would hold all part and drop that’s mine,    
With rich perfumes of yours, I hold you bare,    
In afterglow with sounds of taste and scent.