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Image for the poem Mm.. He’s My…

Mm.. He’s My…

The melody of my tender muse
A feeling from a mental command to daily use
A very good tool for an author such as me
In the form of a hirsute chest wall, dark eyes, and a body as strong as the mighty sea
I can’t think straight I pull back my covers
His handsome manly body hovers
He takes my body to the revelation of the fifth wonder
Elated, sedated, which my mental muse has officially created
That inner peace to tame the mind, soft whispers in him I seek
A soul who feeds my mind with divine incantations
The might of his bare wall, when needed, is comforting in the sweetness of his salutations
 
Feeling the esoteric of his mental sensations
So soft, it equates with the natural rhythmic of my heart elevations
Time for us never needs validation
He’s so smooth, we’re not rushed, in the benediction of time, he makes me gush, well of course it’s his mental touch
 
Eighth dimensional catered
Yes, he’s my Dark Vader
My spiritual translator
 
He is…
 
If I inhale the air, his scent lingers on my skin
I get breathless knowing how this all begin
Hello, my love
I heal human life forms
My healing sentiments is never to keep any mind cold, a heart without a pulse, with no rewards to conform
This Goddess instills that intellectual synopsis of what life is, mmm… I do come with that spiritual antidote, invocations, carnal moaning salvations, which does keep the blood pumping and the body warm
 
Soul searching people in my realm, needing that universal peace, yet, to us, Heaven has so many enlightenment to be scrolled
From way back when and how it should have been truthfully documented from the ages of old
I send my incantations out into the world and in His name, returned tenfold
That beautiful sky mile club, according to my muse, does comes with an everlasting love
Words to get me over, to keep me blooming, to keep me from being asunder, whispers of time from above in its forlorn
I am the origin of Children of the Sun, and we want to see that eternal light when we are reborn
 
This world is hell enough on earth now, must society commence to forever burn in it
Soul and spirit will never see another realm, it cannot cosmic drift
He cuddles my mind in the space of time
If I close my eyes
 
My muse takes me away when he palms the bed, centering me, winking at me as he’s easing betwixt the creaminess of my thighs
I see the galaxies, the stars in the hieroglyphics of his timeless eyes
I give him the heightened passionate of my moon dance, this Adonis, he gives me the thrusting of his sunny surprise
The wisdom of his light.. weakening me, oh yes, right there, that Chakra, knows you by name
The rite of mercy, right there, yes let it reign, come, and came
 
To be in the need of his serotonin, my back arched to the smooth infusion of his endorphins closing my eyes
Lending him pieces of my soul as the stirring of our pheromones, overtakes us, the elixir of our soul acclamations swishing, resonating my soulful outcries  
His wisdom liquidating the knowledge of my honeycomb, splashing, biting down on my bottom lip, we are way past wishing
Mm… it feels sooo good once he taps into my G-spot, oh sweet mercy, he has me trickling my sacred wisdom, holding me even tighter, as he dips, slips deeper and deeper into the soft serenity of my soul, seesawing my curvaceous hips  
In the downward bliss of his dopamine gift
 
Letting his nature bask in the wonders of my Motherland continent, his fingers caressing over my Creole skin like he’s reading braille
I cannot see this feeling, but I know it’s there, a woman’s intuition can always tell
The intellect must find rest at its own fortitude, it’s the essence found in the sentiment of its beautiful sunshine
Once the soul lays bare, naked, vulnerable, intellectually muddled, what is your gift to the universe to offer, other than, nowhere to go, but to uprise
Once locked into the rite of my silken passage… mm.. we own the skies
I like it when you move closer, I can whisper in your ear, those surrendering lullabies
 
Those naughty suggestions that make you ask me, when, and the next time
With my muse if there’s a will, but I’m highly addictive to him doing it his alluring way
Anticipation as he slowly peels my attire off, drawing me close, mm… closer than most, the music of our bodies, fusing in the cadence, heated bliss in his mix, when we sway
The floor, the bed, the couch, and yes even in the shower
It feels so good when my muse calls out my name
 
Clenching me tighter, bathing in the Nubian creation of my candyland
Stimulating he’s what I would call
A gifted body
Quite intoxicating like alcohol
Try a little tenderness and you will see
It’s something that comes so naturally

Written by SweetKittyCat5
Published | Edited 18th Mar 2024
Author's Note
I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back.

Maya Angelou
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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