though you’ve been gone for many an hour,
the perfume of your essence still lingers,
upon the sheets and upon my fingers,
and memories does my lust empower,
of how you managed to sweeten my night,
with the softness and welcome of your flesh,
the sheer abandoned way in which you thresh,
in those orgasmic moments of delight,
and the tight, wet clasping of your muscles,
just the thought of you, once more seduces,
thoughts of sweetness of those honeyed juices,
as your grasping fingers my hair tussles,
when I held you tenderly by the hips,
for your taste, still lingers upon my lips.

15 thoughts on “Lingers

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