20 April 2014
I remember the taste of your lips. And recall with pleasure the way your mouth felt against my own. The warmth, the taste. Lips that met with such sweet perfection. Heat of mouths as they slowly devoured the other. Kissing those lips was like kissing a black hole, pulling you in, consuming you completely, just for that moment until there is nothing remaining to be consumed.
Fingers reaching into hair, gripping, as tongues dance a powerful tango and it feels like an earthquake has hit, a surge of feelings, of desire, of longing, like a volcano has erupted. A whole series of powerful natural disasters, sending shockwaves right to the pit of the stomach, surging around the body with a power and strength like a tsunami hitting shore.
And yet it had a sweetness like champagne, intoxicating, where just one taste leaves you wanting more, craving more, desiring more. And you want to hold onto that kiss for as long as you can, to drink from it when there is nothing left, like being stranded in a desert without any water and that kiss was the only moisture that there will be.
I'll remember the kiss and wish for just one more.