Tribal rhythm on a steamy night
Light breeze at the ocean door
Moonbeams dancing on naked skin,
Shadows entwined on the floor!
Primal urges enticing them
Into flames of passionate fire!
Caught up in a raging storm
A tempest of sexual desire!
Raw and earthy ambience
Lust controlling their minds.
Pleasure the ultimate mutual goal
In their sweaty, sensual grind!
Sweet sensations carrying them
To the place where stars collide,
As breathlessly they gently descend
And passion slowly subsides!
© Annabel Sheila
Share
Print
Save
Follow
And passion slowly subsides! <----for half a second and then... it starts over again!
rhythmic Caribbean nights. You accomplished your aim in these primal, lusty, sweaty lines of passion--I'm breathless. -gene.
To the place where stars collide,"
Wow. Poetry is about the senses, not just the mind. You have engaged our senses here and we rejoice in the gift.
You surprise here and I am happy about it.
Daniel