Making Love

Making Love

The touch of your lips feather light
Fuels the fire of my delight
As deep within flames ignite
The caress of your fingertips on mine
Sends a fiery chill down my spine
Upon my breast you see the sign

Your tongue as it travels here and there
Brings on a shiver that banishes care
As together we venture who knows where
The barest whisper, a gentle tease
Raising a tingle, lower please
Seeking the center I open my knees

The waves roll onward as we crest
Your mouth surrounds my right breast
My love you know what I like best
Filled with a languid, lassitude
The fires subside become subdued
An ember remains to kindle anew

Deborah T