hold that breath,
savour the moment
of pungent scent
deep in the lungs
and you so close
I feel the heat
upon my lips
my face warms
at the thought
of indulging in
a secret passion,
I yearn towards
the touch of you
the scent, the heat
the essence of you
my fingers tingle
at the smoothness,
firm and warm
as I take hold
lean forward,
lips half parted
then, a sigh
a breath
I raise the cup
for my first sip
of Sunday morning coffee!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem