deepundergroundpoetry.com
Tremors
Fingers trace the lines of her form,
Each touch ignites a pulsing storm.
In every curve, a secret lies,
In every sigh, our passion flies.
The quiet tremor, a thrilling ache,
Her body whispers, mine to take.
I find my fire where her warmth begins,
In this tender dance, beneath her skin.
A flood of heat, a claiming tide,
Her hips, a rhythm I can’t deny.
Each breath she takes, a soft command,
As I lose myself in her demand.
The world fades out, just her and me,
Bound by desire’s gravity.
In every pulse, our juice flows,
In every moment, our hunger grows.
Each touch ignites a pulsing storm.
In every curve, a secret lies,
In every sigh, our passion flies.
The quiet tremor, a thrilling ache,
Her body whispers, mine to take.
I find my fire where her warmth begins,
In this tender dance, beneath her skin.
A flood of heat, a claiming tide,
Her hips, a rhythm I can’t deny.
Each breath she takes, a soft command,
As I lose myself in her demand.
The world fades out, just her and me,
Bound by desire’s gravity.
In every pulse, our juice flows,
In every moment, our hunger grows.
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