Specks of dust glide in slow motion while a hypnotic dance performs within the light of the morning sun. Eyes dry filled with fairy dust, collecting their magic in a blue silk bag. Your strong arms, now stretching deliberately they pull my willing body close. In the distance, a lawnmower is cutting nature’s carpet as I hear the crickets and frogs objecting.
Listening to the noble sun as it lets out its sleepy good morning sigh. It rolls over and covers itself with a blanket of yellow silk for a five-minute snooze. Sparkles of dust disappear, but I hear the earth breathing as your legs unwrap me. Searching your eager emerald eyes, I see and feel your deep-rooted desire.
Fingers are touching freckles then scars, gently you are moving my hair from my coffee-colored eyes. My tresses lay a frame for my face while my body secretes pheromones that you taste with each kiss. Skimming the surface of the blue sheets is the smell of Moroccan oil.
With her lonely and sorrowful swoons, a mourning dove creates a symphony for her dying mate. Steam covers the window panes with the climate we construct. We whisper our amorous pledges. We are molded by the heat of our cravings and passion, accepting of, and loving each other’s rough edges.