Tryst – a poem
Here’s a short poem that oozes sexiness. This is for the passionate peeps, the infatuated individuals, the one-night-standers, the complicated couples, the lifetime lovers and those with a late night rendezvous, also known as a booty call and more formally – a Tryst.
Her pretty brown eyes are as seductive as her thighs.
A glint of romance with every look.
Reading her body language like a good book.
A sexy slither as she breathes.
“Come hither,” it reads.
A barrage of kisses – French and pecks.
Leading to…well, you know what’s next.
She has finesse, as well as a fine ass.
Intoxicating beauty, just like a wine glass.
She fills me up. And I feel her up.
A quenching thirst. I drink from her cup.
Half full, I like to keep it.
I hold her close, like a Victoria Secret.
Pheromones are released.
Ecstasy is increased.
Her moans never cease
until climax is reached.
Love never dies; it’s only breached.