Brian F. Malarski

Their hands glide over my naked skin,
brushing over my chest,
combing my sacred hair,
sensing my heat as they stroke.
Their lips glistening in the candlelight,
barely touching my neck,
mapping every inch of my face,
tasting my ecstasy.
Their eyes gleaming like stars in the night,
gazing into each others eyes,
surveying their progress,
focusing softly upon my pride.
Their legs stretch endlessly over each other,
tangling within the crisp linen,
toes curling with each passing moment,
knees weakening with intensity.
Their moist skin swollen with anticipation,
parting in acceptance,
preparing to release,
shuttering from the ultimate love.

Brian F. Malarski
Copyright 2003 Brian F. Malarski

Brian F. Malarski