soft spoken and demure,
a fierce and hungry tiger
ready to pounce,
a dark and raging tempest
waiting to be unleashed;
in the morning
she enters my mind
like a fresh springtime breeze,
long, luscious and lean,
lips sensuous and full,
eyes of cold blue steel;
who could resist?
who would even try?
I imagine her thighs,
slim and firm,
wrapped snugly around my waist,
our lips pressed tightly together,
joined forever
in some ancient
Chinese death grip;
making love with our souls,
touching the only places
that matter.
.
.
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