Hush.
Now blindfold my eyes
and let us begin
with the warmth of your breath
on the warmth of my skin.
Hot rush creeping my thighs
like that ivy in heat
on the old cedar fence
down my neighborhood street.
Touch me not with your hands,
and deny me your lips;
instead coax only with words
the subtle rise of my hips.
Lush
is the garden of pleasure now blooming
Rich
is the currency of lust all consuming.
Hush.
~j~
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