Flemington

 
He felt like forever, and depicted heaven as he carved himself artistically in the depths of me as I licked his pride, and unseen wounds, clean.  
 
Whilst I’m in the spring of my life, my love for him consists of Autumnal shades of burnt reds & oranges as we shed our leaves in the midst of his unspoken untruths.
 
Until.  
 
His words compel me to surrender to him, and like a wildflower, I flourish wildly in between the notions of his yearning as he beckons me to undress myself, all over him.  
 
He tasted holier than depravity, and fine wine which had aged in time, until I dreamt of him fucking me senseless whilst chanting the letters of his name methodically upon my lips as he anoints me with his seed.  
 
Harvested.  
 
There is feeling & knowing, and the intensity of knowing his touch comes during those moments I’m awakened by him thrusting into the depths of me as I’m lucidly aware of his need and all I can do is follow his lead in the opposite direction as he grinds deeply inside me to increase our mutual pleasure.  
 
Leaving me intoxicated, and aching for more of him lodged in the depths of me, pulsating and throbbing until he takes my breath away from the width and depth of his swollen arrogance and pride as he kisses me with such intensity that it takes my breath away.  
 
He is the thought that triggers my feelings, and within him, I can taste his breathe as he sustains me, through his life life force as we master the art of trembling violently upon one another simultaneously.  
 
Filling me deeper, until the innocence within his bare hands leaves me gaping wide while he gazes into the depths of me, dripping all over him.  
 
Bound by silken chords upon the notion of undying, devotion.  
 
Intricately, yet forcefully he violates me in the least prurient way, until I’m quivering all over him and divine absolution can be attained, like a silent prayer for which no words could define.  
 
He’ll always be the equivalent to the beauty that lies within the scent of sandalwood wafting through my home as he liberates himself upon my lips, and penetrates my senses as we teeter upon pausal moments of uncertainty, until my bare cunt craves his seed, like the Sahara craves the rain.  
 
He quenches my thirst, and douses me in his flames as I flick and stoke the embers of our fire, immersing ourselves in our shared desire as we lure one another to the edge of temptation.  
 
He will always be the rhyme that syncopates the sticky love notes within me, as we lovingly strum upon each other, and hum soft canticles in unity as his fingers are threaded between mine whilst he catches his breath, upon my lips.