Sugar And Coffee, Stir Me

 The smell of burnt sugar permeates the air.
I need to move or I'll pass out.
Hands exploring,
My own.
I don't need a man!
Just someone to to tell me right from wrong...
But your coffee, aftershave
(So unlike the unfrivolous man I think I know) and sweat,
That scent that is wholly
Yours!
Fingers dance, mouths collide,
Your exploring.
Hands,
Not my own.