by oosh
Docile, you kneel before me. Breathless with your beauty, I part your hair. Then from behind, I make my painless incision. English is my tongue; and with my tongue I explore the valley between your two lobes, Mapping in my mind those sensitive places, Carefully lapping those tiny, fragile connexions Which hold your life, your universe together Hoping to inspire more than ecstasy. Intent on your pleasure, I explore until your delight Sparks, fires, begets of its own essence A brainchild.