cinnamon

Handsome cinnamon

Handsome gold

His eyes are on fire

but his lips are cold

His body is a granite temple

and his soul is a thousand years old

Ladder of desire

Climb the rungs

Violent kisses

Clash of tongues

My body is a blind inferno

as his hot breath fills my lungs

Bronze arms around me

Cheek to the floor

He’s inside me now

as I beg for more

His body is a driving tempest

bursting against my heart’s locked door

Sleeping cinnamon

Sated greed

Childlike face

from tension freed

My body was a waiting vessel

and I leave with everything I need

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About Eric Kovach

Spiraling out of control~~~~~~o
This entry was posted in Poetry, Writing and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to cinnamon

  1. chimericalparoxysm says:

    Holy crap I love this!

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