Year 49
No greater moment to reach out
To taste and imbibe
The sensual and wanton divine

With each passing year
The need grows stronger
The desire drives deeper
The woman soars higher

28 days
until you feel
my sensual kiss and
molten need once again

The dawn breaks; its sensual destruction caressing your skin, softly teasing the ache, your intensifying yearning for the kiss of his mouth and the touch of his skin and your bodies bound as one.

The dawn breaks; your need and longing overwhelming, your body and soul reaching out to intimacy’s call.

The hunger for a taste
Of your skin and kiss and flesh
It haunts me in dreams and waking

Even as I’m spent and weathered and worn, your touch makes me feel newfound, reborn.

Baby, slide in deep and ease me
into the blushed morning.

I wonder if you’ll ever know the depth, the breadth, the force of my yearning for your touch at first light.

On this cold and lonely morning,
only your touch can
save me.

Even as autumn cloaks me in its golden hues and russet tones, even as the cool winds whip and the rains fall, I yearn again for spring’s new beginnings, its buds and blossoms and sensual possibilities.