Bedroom Talk

Crimson passion,

liquid heat flows

through my veins

above and below,

into my face and thighs,

pulling my chin and hips

towards the sky,

head tilted back

in a silent sigh.

An insatiable thirst

for human flesh,

an ocean about to burst

from wanting your blood on my lips.

Tantric is what she called it.

The rhythm of my hips

pulsating to the song

made by the waves

of heat that flow along

the sides of my neck

to my fingertips.

I’m consumed

and transformed

into a creature of the moon.

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