Loving attention I get from your tongue,
trailing my senses as when we were young.
The urges the same, when lust was our game,
you still can lay claim to this wanton dame.
My hands in your hair pushing you down to me,
Awaiting that kiss that will soon set me free
that desire herein, played like a violin.
Moistness on skin, please enter within.
Lying and waiting for lip to meet lip.
Now celebrating your tongue's very tip.
© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.
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