My Symphony


Flesh against flesh.
Fevered.
Our song we sing with motion.

A rhythm of its own.

Sipping sweet nectar
Off of your heated lips.

Exploring.

Every area of your sensitive soul,
Recording your thoughts.

Murmuring quietly,
Our bodies lock.

Building to a crescendo.

We collapse.
Your body shields mine

The movement begins anew.
We embrace.
Concupiscence.

Copyright (C) Susie E. Matt, 2003