the richness of...

the outline
as if to be a full moon...
how it bleeds through as the rain saturates the cloth
the pigment,
the areola,
the dark...the richness
as a creamy latte.
maybe we could have it your way?
the steam that leads me to you.
the scorching as the heat sticks you.
the thrill to peel you from me.
to inch you away from my skin,
only for your return.
motionless yet with motion.
silence yet with sound.
as the tv finds white noise.
just in time to see you pose.
back-lit, you arch your back
and the shadow on the wall...says it all.
the flutter of the flash
blinking me blind
as to be a gentle sign.
for tonight, the chocolate of your candy
could be mine.
as the stroke of heaven rings within my mind
...letting me know its time.
the quick movement of a hand,
on the small of the back.
the guiding to position
the nonchalance of your disposition...
the attention of a slap
making you appear to come back.
arch once more...
make me feel as i can soar.
whisper to me that of the ancients.
as you grip me...
lathering me with that is you.
wrap the pink that you possess
tuck it around me...
and the lather...
my mind goes to the wild heather...
remembering you...
the rain...and you bleeding through...
i remember...the cloth as i peeled from you.
the first time...