Soap

Like soap you are to my senses,
I can breath you in and feel clean,
Sanitation of the worries,
And the doubts that fall in between.
I can dream of a sapphire moon,
And a candle black and bright,
Lately I awaken to lips that cry,
For you to pacify the night.
But a picture of your eager face,
Comes crawling into my bed,
Warming me and supporting me,
And keeping my fantasies fed.
Like Crème Brule and Cherry Wine,
I drink the ghost of you in,
A full glass of your earthly ways,
The sight and sound of you dribbling down my chin.
Lapping up what is left of the dream,
I am cradled by the curves in your smile,
With a sonnet in my ear, I drift away to where,
There was nothing but my words all the while.
I'm too seductive for you to turn away,
In your memory or imagination,
The heat of my embrace lingering on your skin,
A wicked tingle in each sensation.
There's nothing like a pillow of curves,
As you sink in down of another kind.
Drunk of the penetrating scent of me,
High on the curvature of my spine.
Perfect hands with cooling fingertips,
Slide along my hills and your valleys,
Until they reach the fiery center,
Of sultriness and sensuality.
Like a wet dream, fully desiring,
Rapturous and slow to fade.
Like a vampire I have marked you,
Your body I have claimed.
Every longing moment, pushed beyond endurance,
As I leave you wanting more,
A slave to reoccurrence,
This is what your body was invented for.