Savour is such a delicious word.
It brings to mind such decadent things.
When I think of savouring
my thoughts center squarely on you…
My lips can almost feel the texture of your skin
My tongue knows your taste
though it’s never had that pleasure.
I am thirsty for you.
Drinking you in
a constant on my mind.
A yearning to know your essence.
To have you know mine.
To savour each other
like a fine wine.
The exquisite bliss as the tongue
That first moment
as you alight there.
A taste never to be forgotten
seared into my mind
sating a hunger which is just for you.
A need for you to know all of me
and for me to discover your secrets
freely given under my fervent caresses
my attentive tongue.
Upon these crisp white sheets
our playground of skin
I ardently explore your terrain
and let you uncover my own
in ways I can only imagine.
Sunlight and shadows marking my curves
until you do.
The burn of your fingertips
as you lazily wend your way
from neck to arse.
Your gasp as my hand finds you
my touch like silk.
The feel of you…
as I raise my eyes to you
and see my own naked need
in your eyes.
Photograph taken from White Noten