I want to write you a poem about the perfection of your lips,
The way they take mine in with want and hunger.
The way they make me thirst,
The feeling of not needing oxygen when your mouth devours mine.
I want to write about your hands,
The way they touch my body leaving me longing and wanted.
The way my body arches, aching to be touched.
I want to write about the way your arms feel,
The way they hold me and keep me from losing control.
How I can hold them tightly, pressing you closer and closer.
I want to write about the feeling of you being inside me,
How me move together reaching and reaching for our wonderful release.
To the rhythm of the most beautiful song ever created,
Only for the two of us to hear and replay.
But most importantly, I want to write about the love I feel for you,
The way I want to wake Up to you every morning,
and kiss those perfect lips.
But I do not feel it,
I do not want it,
I do not love you. I cannot write you those words.
I just want to write about your perfect lips.
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