In tender strides
our souls do
stir, like hot flowing
drops of honey.
A thunderclap ago
our clouds parted to let loose
fervent cry of
deepest sky in your belly.
Wetly soaks the smooth surface
of your skins,
into my palms spill
its silky flow,
till we shudder with pleasure.
A love supreme
finds our buoyancy,
sweet as honeysuckle-memory
in its fall.
We cascade as if snowflakes
in a spring dawn,
settling onto the moss
and ferns of a rain forest in my mind.
Wetly soaks the delicate folds
of your lips,
onto my cheeks come
its tender flow,
till we tingle to the core.
In gentle showers
our bodies do
play, like cool flowing drops of rain.
Its thunder rolls
slowly over our clouds of love
and swells so deeply
in your hungry eyes.
Wetly soaks the hairs on your nape,
into my scalp trickle
its moist flow,
till we cling in lasting joy.
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