Pachelbel: Canon in D
Like waves washing over sensitive skin
It is but the touch of her hand
She probes in places
Used to gentle handling
Lightly kisses others
Flowing steadily downwards
Eyes blood and lips
One moans
The other sighs
I cannot tell which
She is the living
Breathing aphrodisiac
Forever arousing
Reversal
As she penetrates
In only the way
A woman can
Spiritually
Mentally
Physically
Thighs wrapped
Around thighs
Silent participants
Keeping pleasure inside
Heavy the breathing
Shared between
Lips that press
Grabbing hips
To hold on
During rides
A matter of safety
It comes forward
An uncontrollable flood
Washing her
That eternal race
Taking place
On red rimmed tracks
Gently pulling
Her off and onto
Her backside
Feeling her out
Using a natural utensil
A taste that only
A woman can give
Trembling
He drowns
Comes up from waves
Gasping for breath
They each take their souls back
Transferred through their lips
And sleep
The dream at its end
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