Warning – Erotica Adult over 18 Only
Your skin reminds me of cinnamon and ginger, that tang of spices fresh and burning on the tongue
Early in the morning I want to inhale you, you sleep cold
You say I am a furnace keeping you warm as you wrap yourself around me
You say I am your anchor; we fall asleep tangled together at night
Every morning you are wrapped around me sharing my heat
My breasts settled heavily in your hand and you nestled between my legs
The sheets are damp, from your sleep and our lovemaking of the night before
Your skin is covered in a sheen of sweat and your spice scent
I sleep too hot in your arms yet am reluctant to leave for cooler climes
Moving will wake you; the scent of your skin sends small shivers down my spine
I push back at you, your arm tightens around me instinctively capturing and slowing movement
You tighten yourself against my back pulling me closer, making us one
Your breath lifts my hair as you nestle closer still, holding tightly
Your breath settles back to the rhythm of slumber even while your body wakes
Slowly we begin to move together with recognized rhythms of morning
We barely move yet the universe spins us outward stars brighten then explode
The flavor of your spice heightened by our morning dance on sunbeams is on my tongue
As our rhythm moves from Tango to Salsa, your hands glide from breast downward
The sun warms you, as I have through the night your slumber undisturbed even as I say good morning
Each of us smile as we settle into our day anchored by the other, your spice fills the room
You have rolled over to the spot I have left and grabbed my pillow, do I leave a scent too
Valentine, 1-May-2014