His eyes were inside of mine
His lips, two perfect pieces of flesh.
There's His sensuality. caught between
what speaks and sees.
His face turned down with eyes, raspberries
burning through You, pluck one and take it for Yourself.
Juice on the tips and
falling around. Stickiness
at the point where your chests meet.
Breathing there, in and over again. He
leaves, touching the bottom on your soul.