Marvelous images come to play
as I think on her in repose
delicate in tone, soft in the silence
of a shiftless day.
Anticipation at the potential
of where the scene may wander
fingertips upon bare skin,
exactly where they go inconsequential.
Rarely ever has a woman drawn me so,
this compulsion, this mad desire
to push down, open up and own
to ravage, losing all self control.
Incognito and veiled in nature,
angel eyes with the devil behind them,
Hands out imploringly
pushing away at the same time reaching.
Always I oblige her wanton needs
Fair skin, fair no more,
as hues of vibrant pink come to settle
showcasing my forceful violent deeds.
Red plays the game well,
known needs in hand
Her body building, mind reeling
as her broiling core begins to swell.
Overjoyed she is, too weeping,
sweet deathly spasms taking,
nails raking, her body shaking,
now all she seeks is to be sleeping.
Sorry my dear, your times not quite up
for I’m all fire and fury
Hands roaming, lips tasting,
penetrating, with great intent to erupt
Easing back, I now tease
inch by slow inch, I either
advance or retreat
I own this body now completely.
Taunting curves upon curves
whether with a jest of a twist
a nip, or a bite, she knows
the rules must be served.
Tantalizing terrible is my attention,
for her nature darkly beckons
She exalts at her body being at my disposal
A mere toy to be used with conviction.
Open is her love for me,
expansive as an undulating ocean
I rise and I fall with her
Finally finding my own place of peace.
By Philip Wardlow 2018