savory cinnamon coils,
sewn daintily into
your youthful scalp;
long and plenty,
tarrying my bony digits
like a rake through autumn leaves.
eyes drop down,
skimming your expressed face -
few seconds.
blouse cut low, broadcasting
the distinct separation between breasts:
shallow, but mature beyond years.
a gentle fondle, turned quick
into forceful gropes...
all sighs channel into that basin,
replete with love anew.
passion exuded,
with each bead dropped
from our interlocked mouths.
like no other, she owns my heart.
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