Not Shakespeare

Not Shakespeare

Body tremors,
make my
heart thump,
bass drum,
percussion.

Scent of
lilac, rose petals.
Eyes widen.
Cupid lips
kiss my submission.

Nightingale tongue,
tickles my ear,
you set my pace,
encourage, control.
“Slowly”.

Ripples across
my skin,
march in time
to fingernails
that rake my back.

Arched in pleasure
our thrusts deepen
and hold, as close
as a child
in your womb.

Temptress to my ego,
Juliet for Romeo.
Impaled on my balcony,
you close, squeeze. Wanting
the curtain call and encore.

T
07/07/08