deepundergroundpoetry.com

Waist Chain
Spaces between us
In the valley of your body, I am home,
lost in the curves and whispers of your skin.
I drift south, my lips tracing the stories you’ve never told,
kissing each mole like a promise only I can keep.
Your silver waist chain glimmers, a fragile thread
binding me to the depths of your navel,
where I drown willingly,
a wanderer surrendering to your warmth.
The scent of your panties is a secret,
a language only my body understands.
I peel them away slowly, as if unwrapping a sacred gift,
revealing the garden of your desire
curls soft as the first light of dawn,
their earthy musk a hymn to the life we share.
I want to disappear into them,
to be cradled in their tenderness,
to breathe you in until I am no longer myself.
My breath becomes a quiet storm,
cool and teasing, as it dances over your clit.
My tongue follows, a painter of pleasure,
circling, savoring, until I suckle gently,
like a child drawing comfort from your essence.
Your moans rise, soft and unrestrained,
a melody that guides my hands,
my fingers parting your folds,
drenched in the honey of your need.
I drink from you, deeply, hungrily,
your nectar a sacrament that fills my soul.
My tongue explores every inch of you,
a pilgrim in the temple of your ecstasy.
Your legs rest on my shoulders, trembling,
toes curling as I taste the crescendo of your pleasure.
Each flick of my tongue is a vow,
a whispered promise that I am yours.
The way you suck my finger is a wildfire,
spreading through me, burning away everything but you.
Your nipple hardens between my fingers,
a silent plea that I answer with my mouth,
my tongue, my breath, my everything.
I want to lose myself in the sweetness of your core,
to sleep with my tongue nestled inside you,
nourished by the essence of your being
a feast for my body, my mind, my soul.
Let me stay here,
where the world fades and only we remain,
where your sighs are my compass,
and your pleasure is my purpose.
-arsh
In the valley of your body, I am home,
lost in the curves and whispers of your skin.
I drift south, my lips tracing the stories you’ve never told,
kissing each mole like a promise only I can keep.
Your silver waist chain glimmers, a fragile thread
binding me to the depths of your navel,
where I drown willingly,
a wanderer surrendering to your warmth.
The scent of your panties is a secret,
a language only my body understands.
I peel them away slowly, as if unwrapping a sacred gift,
revealing the garden of your desire
curls soft as the first light of dawn,
their earthy musk a hymn to the life we share.
I want to disappear into them,
to be cradled in their tenderness,
to breathe you in until I am no longer myself.
My breath becomes a quiet storm,
cool and teasing, as it dances over your clit.
My tongue follows, a painter of pleasure,
circling, savoring, until I suckle gently,
like a child drawing comfort from your essence.
Your moans rise, soft and unrestrained,
a melody that guides my hands,
my fingers parting your folds,
drenched in the honey of your need.
I drink from you, deeply, hungrily,
your nectar a sacrament that fills my soul.
My tongue explores every inch of you,
a pilgrim in the temple of your ecstasy.
Your legs rest on my shoulders, trembling,
toes curling as I taste the crescendo of your pleasure.
Each flick of my tongue is a vow,
a whispered promise that I am yours.
The way you suck my finger is a wildfire,
spreading through me, burning away everything but you.
Your nipple hardens between my fingers,
a silent plea that I answer with my mouth,
my tongue, my breath, my everything.
I want to lose myself in the sweetness of your core,
to sleep with my tongue nestled inside you,
nourished by the essence of your being
a feast for my body, my mind, my soul.
Let me stay here,
where the world fades and only we remain,
where your sighs are my compass,
and your pleasure is my purpose.
-arsh
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