Musings by The Poet Loriet
Delirium
My favorite place to be
is in your lap,
gazing into your eyes,
playfully rubbing noses,
our lips tingling
as we exchange
sweet kisses.
Our chests seesaw
back and forth as
we breathe in harmony,
my arms clasped
at the small of your back,
just above
your denim waistband.
Your arms encircle me,
pull me towards you,
into your kisses,
my thighs on top
of your thighs.
We sink deeper
into each other
with every kiss
as we slowly
rock each other's
world.
Lori Beal
is in your lap,
gazing into your eyes,
playfully rubbing noses,
our lips tingling
as we exchange
sweet kisses.
Our chests seesaw
back and forth as
we breathe in harmony,
my arms clasped
at the small of your back,
just above
your denim waistband.
Your arms encircle me,
pull me towards you,
into your kisses,
my thighs on top
of your thighs.
We sink deeper
into each other
with every kiss
as we slowly
rock each other's
world.
Lori Beal
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Delirium
Delirium
