I spoke to her in a soft whisper

I spoke to her in a soft whisper

She was beautiful:

Brown eyes with ample pillows that cushioned her chest;

long legs and sculpted buttocks.

I remember the length,

along her neck that I imagined was scented like oceans distant that I wished to drown in.

She smiled in black,

said something that to me looked like a nest of butterflies let out because she talked too much.

I liked that.

Liked her luscious lips when she spoke.

I thought,

I liked her mind the most.

More than her long puffy hair.

More than the curves on her lips or the cute bulge on her behind,

I liked her thoughts.

Though I imagined what words she would whisper all over my skin,

how long it would take to unzip her black top off her slender beautiful skin that I'd wished to explore.

Then slowly penetrate her moisture,

and taste her honey in my hands,

live in the excitement she felt then,

she spoke.

Ashore an ocean of thoughts,

that had her hands tied up,

fully naked,

I fully clothed.

She,

exposed and nervous,

and painfully excited.

A good adventure perhaps.

We'd collapse,

from the steam we'd exude from our cold skin,

I'd ignite the parts of her body that she didn't like,

with my tongue a burning desire,

so we'd start to melt into each other.

Make out,

taste myself on her lips,

and feel her moans in my mouth.

I smiled.

Wondered if she could see through my calmed face,

and charming smile,

we talked.

My devilish thoughts,

the bees she shook unknowingly,

erect didn't fully explain what I felt then,

which peak it affected the most.

She an exquisite wine I'd drink senseless,

in my weakness I'd wanted her more.

Made love to the memories, we'd make,

in my mind she was more than just the girl across the table.

More than the girl I wanted that night.

At arms length,

we'd held hands,

the warmth,

romantic sparks,

a genesis because thoughts and ideas are just stories,

that still need a place to start.

23/10/18✅