'The Things Men Say'
By christy
I see mischief dancing behind your lids, round the curl of your lips; latent yearnings turned plunderous in my company. I breathe. Your scent slakes my senses. You are spicy winter rain endlessly sluicing, rising, becoming osmotic. You touch, devilish whisper on skin, reaching for some naughty thought to slip through your mouth, a chocolatier's sweet utterance. "You feel so good I wish I had more than two hands". Written December 14th, 2001 © on Dec 14 2001 08:02 AM PST 0 • 10
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"I see..."