I have an addiction.
To the softness of his lips, that are rosier than mine
And taste of fresh mint when he comes late at night
Or some mornings when he welcomes dawn before me.
I savour the taste, cherishing every bit of them.
The little bump that he earned in his childhood,
Nature’s love bite. It’s my turn now.
I breathe him in, filling my lungs with his scent,
Feeling every inch of him to the tune of his heartbeat.
I long for those lips that whisper sweet words in my ear
And make me feel loved. Warm and loved.
“You are safe with me” they say as his fingers run down my spine
And then follow my waist to the front, reaching up to my breasts.
Circling my nipples, they whisper again.
“I love you.”
Every inch of me responds to his voice, his touch.
I can taste the hunger on them, for me.
The only drug that counters your craving.
He knows my wants so he takes his time.
I let him abuse my yearning. Always.
He, my ocean. His lips
The shore from where I set sail to his heart. His soul.
The place where our desires crash into each other like waves
As I dissolve into him. That’s what we long for.
I pine for him.
Hunger for his warm breath on my skin.
I wait for him to brighten my days. And nights.
His smile alone sets my heart on fire,
Burning my troubles away. I watch them turn into ashes.
He my Lightbringer, I the moon of his life.
With his blue as summer eyes he slays the dark demons
That come to visit one lone soul.
His gaze would cut through my heart and leave a soothing wound.
And I would rest, in peace.
I want his lips to give life
To mine, that are wet not from want but tears.
He would taste the salt on them if he were here now.
But he isn’t and I miss him.
I miss you.
About the painting – “Romance in Red II” by Alfred Gockel