The Art Of Moisture Part 1 Poem by Katherine Brooke

A secret gentle touch on the palm of my hand
Sends a bolt of pleasure to my core – moisture.

A flash image of you: Focused
Far away – inside
Biting the corner of your bottom lip.

You plunge deep & withdraw to the tip.
I meet your rhythm & with my muscles, grip.

Shock waves roll over me.
I hold my breath as my body is lost
To uncontrolled vibrations.
The back of my eyeballs explode – ecstasy.
Hold still.
I ride the waves as they ripple throughout – disengaged.

Wait a minute: Breath again
Relax
The moisture flows again
Change position
Find the rhythm

Start Again....