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Montage
I can no longer distinguish where my pleasure ends and hers begins
It’s all one endless dream, a stream of consciousness
A montage to desire and yearnful longing we paint every night
With secret kisses, inadvertent touches and a fire that lives in this bed
We are both givers without thoughts to individual pleasures
We embrace the sacred notion of pleasing your lover
There is no greater satisfaction than when your lover glows from your
touch
A simple smile of gratitude and you’re flying high
Your lover has validated the moment and the montage is now complete.
Dean
Jean-Pierre
(Frisky
(This work is copyrighted)