Queen of Cups

 
I am she, who tiptoes between his waking moments and the dreams that lie in the depth of him.

He beckons me to place my cursives upon his palate, as I trace his lips with the warmth of my breath to find the letters of my name etched upon them.

Still.

I am the air he inhales, the water in which he was baptised, the earth in which he grasps on to as he allows it to slip through his fingers, unrefined.

I am the source of all that is generated from within the depths of him.

I am personified in all that he expresses as he gazes upon the streaky constellations that traverse the galaxies from dusk to dawn.

I am the reflection of the embers that linger within his heart, soul and mind as the heat he generates remains within me to keep me anchored to his heart and lulled upon the threshold of natures delights.

I am the river that flows in the depths of his being while he adorns me with watercolor hues until I'm dripping all over him as I drape him with the purity of our sybaritic tendencies.

His mercy lies within the fate of my debauchery as he navigates his way through unchartered waters, unmapped.

I am the constant craving that keeps him hungry but well fed, the iteration that he chants upon the breeze until he feels the length and width of our gaping love notes, penetrating my heart and soul, subliminally.

I am the reflection of his fierce untamed desires as our love resides upon his alter, sacrificial.

I am the exotic beauty the lingers upon his lips as he recalls the ancient inscriptions he found upon my hips as his fingertips tap danced across my flesh as he scribbled his name all over me.

I am the dominance he craves as I temper his breath whilst he abdicates himself upon the juxtaposition of thorny notions and soft petals, licking the flames that punish him to no end until he's satisfied with his own redemption as he balances me upon the scimitar that he once used to crucify his past indiscretions violently but silently, orchestrated.

He drinks from my cup to sustain himself as he fills me ferociously, until I'm humming all over him and overflowing with hot sticky love notes as the letters of his name remain upon my quivering lips, never to be released.

I am everything to him that you will never be able to live up to as all that remains upon the lips of the King of Cups is my sweet nectar.