How that grin sways me from my world into yours,
The soft voluptuous world of fragrance
that emanates from your touch.
As I listen to your trysts of loneliness and lovemaking,
My mind wanders illicitly to your breasts
And the warmth I know I’ll find there.
The warmth rough hands rarely know how to give.
Mere curiosity? I think not.
More the thought, possible dream
Of making love to oneself.
I continue to listen, yet I only hear;
Feel the wet passion