Love, Not Romance
A Poem
I wore lacey underwear for the sole purpose of knowing you’ll take them off
with your hands,
I wore perfume today knowing that you’ll be lusted by the smell of floral
divinity.
I want your fingertips to linger over my skin,
touching the forbidden areas of my body.
Your touch is magic, sending my heart into flames,
my stomach turning into a field of flowers filled
with bees and butterflies
and small bumps circulating all over my skin.
Every curve, dip and line of it
I want you to leave a mark.
I want your love to fill me when you dig inside me,
I want your love to move from my lips, down to my neck
and all the way to my inner thighs.
Most of all I want your love to hold my head so
my eyes can look into the deep pools of your soul
and finally, shut with mine.
I want to feel your love beat through your chest as you lie
on top, and beneath me.
I want your love to redefine my definition and aspirations of romance.
Simply because you can.
I will always let you fill me with love despite our love being temporary and somewhat meaningless.
