quietman

Inspired by-
29.jpg of What she said


Her hair rises like the curtains
drawing up to unleash a symphony
of heat from the most lustful of musicals
Her neck exposes itself for my vampyric
thoughts to salivate over but all I can
do is whisper to it, giving her
succulent life through my own breath
deep, warm, and slowly evolving
Geese fly across her skin as the
nail tip glides down the most
sensational of nerves from nape to
high curvature and around the softest
of resting spots for hands to be
The firm softness of her bosom
form images of heavenly divinity
where the heathens pray for
enlightenment and the innocent
worship for the drink of life
The eyes know a secret far too
dangerous to spread randomly
only the purist of the sinners
may know what lies in those
deep pools of molten satin
But the smile sets her apart
shyly, slyly hiding behind the strength
of her form where she can
softly manipulate what her
will will allow forever challenging
your conception of what should be
and what should only exist in our
imaginations