Posted on September 26, 2010 at 7:39 PM |
The Virtuoso
He played her like
A finely tuned
Stradavarius,
Brought her to
Soaring ecstasy with
Voice and touch
Making sparks dance
Along nerve endings
Drew on her tongue
Until her mouth wept.
Stroking lower to savor slick,
Succulent,scented pink flesh
Until she cried out,
Every nerve singing for his possession,
Every cell desperate to join with him.
Attuned to each breath,
Sigh and moan,
He knew when to move,
How slow or fast,
How deep or shallow,
How hard,
When to be tender,
When to be rough.
Knew the balance of
Ferocity and pleasure,
Savagery and gentleness.
Exquisite thrust and draw
Of primal, carnal rumba
Cadence building to
Reverberating crescendo,
A finale rippling with waves of rapture
Categories: Brokenwing, Poetry & Lyric
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