deep down the line
where the locket shines like moon
just in the middle of e’thing & n’thing
I want to lay my breath
on your trembling wet skin.
With soft tender brush of hands–
of yours grasp my hair and place me–
‘ween the décolletage,
where rivulet of your beats rhythm.
I seldom write Erotica. So, from now on every Saturday I’ll try to write one. Any comment, review most welcome.