Wet Longings Poem by Leslie Xavier

Moist lips caress my neck,
cold tickles, my sleepy eyes open.
Stuck between the Estate and dreams,
I wait for the heavens to stop.
Soon came the chills,
and the stutters, the old longings.

My softened truth wails now, battered;
a warm bed, silk and soft.
My confused lie needs now, music;
a flute of wine, bubbly and smooth.

My pores open now, ready;
for the warmth, a glowing hearth.
My heart aches now, love;
her bosom, full, firm and tender.