Cheryl Townsend
SHE LET HERSELF
in with a quiet key dropping all
testaments on his floor and kitchen
counter then made her way through the
darkness concealing loyalty up the stairs
to where he was sleeping in dreams of her
she slid into his sheets like a shroud he
rose to her needing hands she painted his
skin with lust her tongue tasting Eden he
tuned aware of who and why grabbong his
when forgetting circumstences as the
intensity grew thicker between them he
lavished her patchouli scenting sex she
pulled him into her void whirlpooled in
sweat and moist wanting he pushed all other
from within her filling again with him alone
she took and took knowing the tomorrow her
cries giving impetus to his search for more
than temporary feeling the desperation wrapped
in her thighs she just wanted it all knowing
it was there for her spontaneity and nothing
more always so perfect to her insistence so
sating to his covet relinquishing knowledge
like sweat dripping into the sheets that
will wash the evidence out of the evening in
some day to come
