The Art Of Making Love

The look in my eye of a sculpture with curves that robs me of my attention

The first time the first time I'd allow a burglar to rob me of it all with no prevention

The dream of taking the first move, my hands on you as firm as fears tightest grip

A bodily sound your mouth makes, as you take in every feel in the intentions of my lips

Intended to on my highest view of a divine woman that's on my mind more than self-conscience

Whispering the beloved tone's I cherish to hear as my tongue takes notes and prepares to do maintenance

To let my tongue glide across the shifts in your hips, that follows a narrow path into what many call a myth 

But this here isn't no made up character, for when I touch it your body will rise like a Vegas magic trick 

Your eyes will awake from their dreams and realize that reality exists

Take a gander at the glare in mine of your thigh's heavenly shine 

As you look over this cloudy storm I rest in 

To take this vine and turn it to wine and let each drip correspond from your mind 

My arms around you like handcuffs in the softest steel of the man in me

Every decision is one of precision I'll take care in every motion as my tongue makes an incision 

My hands preoccupied to touch, but questions worthiness of such lust 

Permission by yours to adjoin a loving rush, my fingers trickle up your back creating thrust 

Each breath blown in and out to the rhythm of sound between skin, the moonlight guiding each push as our love comes out from within 

Holding on for dear life to my back, clawing an piercing as i pierce yours as deep 

The further I go the more pins and needles of your fingers affections that slowly seep 

At the climax the peak the knockout the photo finish, at this moments' near end but its feeling will never vanish or diminish 

It's the art of love that inks up our minds for a pretty picture, I sculpted you in mine as beautiful as Gods scriptures.