Her Hips that yield
Their syrupy sweetness
That lift and grind with each caress
Soft, luxuriant petals that unfold
And vibrate with heat
Molten passion
That flows
From her center
Like honey
Dripping drop by sugary drop
Into caverns of sleep

Her Skin whose scent
Is intoxicating
Velvet smooth to the touch
Dark and think
Heady with sweat
Overflowing with desire
That speaks of moments
In the dark when
Their hands touched
Beneath the red lanterns
Her Lips that speak
Words like lashings
That taste, that lick and moan
And curse the hour of her birth
Soft balmy, cool caress
The voice of her imagination

Her Embrace knows no boundaries
Her body is fruit
Her limbs water
She opens, and welcomes
Feeds the weary traveler
Who having tasted of her flesh
Grows strong again