by
Patricia Nichols
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Untitled #1 How supple are your sweet lips, The kind that were meant for kisses, Warm and brown- I bet they taste like honey, There is a fantasy , That lives and breathes, It flows through my simple veins, Just the thought of your lips slightly parted, Beckoning the kiss I so long for, And my lips know nothing but your sacred name. |  |
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Untitled #2 Into the hollow where lust and love become one power, Where caramel gets tickled by golden brown hands, Where the round womb is sacred, and brown souls quiver, We create dance and melody resounding, We float on the wings of a song. |
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Untitled #3 In the deep dusk of night- In a dream created by purest desire, Her lips so sweet- Kiss the bright light of the candles' fire, The beauty she delivers- Only proves to intensify my yearning, And like beauty itself- She teases my heart and leaves the fire burning. |  |
