Her lips were like honeydew on a rose bud
So sweet was the taste as open mouths and tongues caressed
Such kisses one often does not forget
Like Hips caressing in the darkness
Sparks flying from erotic friction
Until orgasmic bliss
I can feel the contours of her hips in my greedy hands
Curves and full breasts bouncing to the music of desire
A conflagration of lust still alight in dreams of yesterday lost
What is gone is gone
Or is it just misplaced
In my mind I find her still
Meeting me
Half way.
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