She.....He.

This one is a few years old. Originally it was only my part (She). Then Ms Monica (Dolly) decided to collaborate and totally blew me out of the waters with her part (He). She will kill me for sharing this but its too good to not. Sorry Doll! The management loves ya homegirl! LOL! Hope yall like it! Lemme (and Doll) know.

Part 1. She

With every smile she pierces my eyes with infatuation needles

With every touch of her lips she smears the war paint on my rough warrior skin

With every provocative stare she catches me trying to look away

If I could only make you mine

Soft angel hair like the satin sheets I straddle between my legs as I dream of her

Sensual touches find body parts that were long forgotten within

Her every word lingers in my head like heavens choir echoing in a deserted church

If only my wishes were to come true

Womanly fingers strumming the struggle in my heart like an old blues player

As I watch her sleep, juvenile breezes convince lace curtains to come out and play

Smiling as I see a luminescent knock open the doors to her soul

If only god made me more her-fect

Bliss soundproofed to the hectic mayhem of the windy city

Only thing that smells better than the french toast is the Indian essence of you on me

A trail of clothes leading to the door with a rest stop at the kitchen counter

Would never be lost because I’ve memorized a map of your body…inside and out

Good morning kisses with funky morning love breath…

Funky with the scent of each others body

Her breakfast gets cold as my blood begins to boil

Her glass of OJ lay still as her pitcher of womanhood overflows

Passion encored

Sweet love chocolate melt into my soul.

~Johnny~

Part 2. He

With every glare you peer beyond my eyes.

I intercept your perceptions of my inner soul by closing my eyes.

Like shades on a window not allowing the glisten to enter in.

I desire to feel every fraction of you. Experience all of your skins.

Baby soft, protective, vulnerable, Army skins.

Bashful like a child who licked icing off of the cake.

Afraid that you will not akin to my imperfections.

Strong hands that I yearn to touch me, protect me, envelope me, conquer me.

My body quivers with chills envisioning your hands exploring my entire existence

Touching me in ways that no one ever has

Affecting my mind ahead of physicality

Gazing in an intoxicated way that only you and I can comprehend.

Drunk in the essence of us. No Southern Comfort required.

Asleep in my arms, you rest on my breast;

I explore and caress every inch of your beautiful head

To read each of your stories as you breathe a consistent breath.

I desire to explore every inch of your intimate soul. My carcass and core will forever safeguard you.

Is this how my eternity can be? Can I forever feel this bliss?

Will the Gods allow this?

Thoughts of perfection so true as I stare down and see my future, what have I done to deserve this?

Awakening feelings from my drought dessert

A dessert that only identified with sand for so long

My lips go to get my thirst quenched

I hope you don’t think of me too forward for diving into your exquisite pool

Strong lips that I aspire to nibble passionately

To savor every flavor liberally

The floodgates are opened. Intoxication. Control is all lost.

The unspoken dialect that only we can comprehend.

Our world. Our flavors. Our Inebriation. Our story. Our Destiny. Our Gratification.

Manly hands bask across my body like a dance.

Every hair on my body is moving towards your aura like magnet to metal.

Your fragrance is meant for only me to recognize.

Allow me to digest, relish and cherish this prize.

An Orchestra of tablas, Sitars, flutes and violins.

Tabla’s heartbeat thump in our carcass

Sitar’s nostalgic melodies surround our united soul to sooth our fears

Flutes rhythmically moan in sheer satisfaction

Violins are plucked to exhort the music of two yearning children

Tasting one another for the first time creating our own special flavors.

Swirl of flavors of rapture combined with ecstasy with a dash of desire combined with impish and uncontrolled pleasure.

The stars and moon are dancing in celebration as we intersect paths.

Separate roads converge in the dark of the festivity of lights above

Your taste is so decadent.

Power personified by the tongue

Eager to recognize and own each spice that is waiting to unveil

Our bodies mesh into one.

Mocha Caramel.

~Monica~