Tapestry

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bronzeage
bronzeage
280 Followers

The day's fatigue fades our pillow talk
to the gray sleep we crave,
the day washes off quickly under closed eyes,
held in your arms.
The moon wakes me long before the sun
cuts the room or the alarm bangs the day awake.
I feel you in the dark, a curled spoon against me,
your warm ass under my stroking hand
and my hard cock tucked between your cheeks.
Darkness hides you from my eyes,
but touch, taste and smell are my guides,
spurred by a hissed breath though parted lips,
a sigh induced by my finger tips
grazing your pussy, parting and
dipping into sweet cream, your morning dew,
called by my teeth and mouth on your neck and shoulders,
chasing your dream lover from your mind,
leaving me his place to press my belly to yours,
put your legs around my hips and push deep inside you,
heartbeats in rhythm to our cries and moans.
The planet loosens its grip on us as we tumble through the night,
braided, interlaced and woven into love's cloth,
a tapestry of two.

bronzeage
bronzeage
280 Followers
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3 Comments
darkecstacydarkecstacyover 17 years ago
Dreamy

This poem made me want to be woken by you in just this way.

AnonymousAnonymousover 17 years ago
A cut above

I like this, it's better than most poems about the same stuff.

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