It starts with an ethereal wisp,
A warm breath exhaled from lips
Close enough to share the same air.
Then there is the touch,
Light and soft. And the taste:
A brief visit by the tongue,
A wet stroke over the silky inside.
Then there is the entwine,
The wrestling, the lapping,
The fusing, the fire, the rocking,
Side to side, the stretching of
Mouths, the sliding over throats,
Hairs tangling over fingers, lashes
Brushing against each other,
Cheeks hollowing in, glistening
Faces, slightly puffing, gasping for air,
The hot skin turning as red as the lips
That started it all, bringing down the heavens
Into the deep, with a wisp, a taste, a touch.