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Dew

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©1989 Chris Abraham

Dew

Pale lips flutter alight,
Mouthing phantom praise, saxophone coos.

A hovering tease -- breath vaporizes against
salty sheen skin.
Under slow nuzzled caresses, trailed fingers,and an incandescent tongue,
Taut flesh swells and becomes flush.
Arching the back to be closer met by touch.

Touch: soft, gentle scrape of nails on chest;The touching of the mouth to the nape;
It lingers and explores, head falls back,
And the stomach tenses.
Wonderful mouth! Wonderful intimate kiss!Arms firm around curving flair;
Pulling closer in embrace, opening under assurance,
Gasping breath love, movingSlowly together.

A crescendo of response, up like
Tides under the moon.
Kettledrum pulse, sudden resurgence like

The wing beat of a startled dove.Slick musty brine inhaled,
Saturating the lungs.

Minds detour into mazes as eyes close;
Mouths search. Skin meets, its contact
Fosters the need to devour
Swallow
Absorb --
To break the physical and meet the 
Need.

Feb 12, 1989 10:15 PM