Passion

Red lips,

Slow sips,

Patiently waiting for the draw;

Raw, the grasp of the body.

 

As animals retreat,

Beyond the primal,

Into the seething depths

Of a secluded lust.

 

Evoked responses,

From the thin lips.

Soft tips.

Grasped hips.

 

Red cheeks,

Burning heat.

Infatuated life seeks

For more.

 

Smile and adore

Her caramel skin.

Turned into a velvet sin

Brewed from a young lesson.

 

Pressed up,

Pinned up,

Hear after more the sudden roar;

Canines deep in her scruff.

 

This is passion I seek,

None childish and straightforward.

No foolish games

Or wayward turns.

 

Not for all,

But is for those whom have the gall.

To settle on it all.

That is the wall that I stand tall on.

 

That is my passion.

This poem is about: 
Me
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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