long hair swishing on bare skin
feels like a poem
that’d make you blush
an exhale that pulses
invites
dimpled skin to rise and greet
the heat of a dawning thought
a promise
a sway of hips readying themselves
a curtain parting
a look over the shoulder
(without ever looking)
hand
tongue
eyes
languorous
being watched
wanted
feather-soft need
my back
my neck
goosebumps and nipples
satin thighs
in the middle of the bed
being held
offering everything
like
a promise
in other words
erotic
joy-filled
in the way
desire
beauty
love
can be
– by Lola Moi –
