I'm kind of self-disqualified because I had already started writing one (I'm doing the 'poem a day' challenge) and did it to the Shakesperean sonnet rules. But here it is anyway.
When rose-soft lips are parted with a moan, and tongue darts out and moistened heated breath slips into air and mingles with your own, then you would kiss them if it meant your death.
And then, your own lips parted wide, you lean, and lift a hand to toy with golden hair, and raise your eyes upon blue eyes so keen, awaiting such soft kisses with your pair.
It seems, you think, he only wants your love. It seems, you think, he’s waiting for your touch. Your lips fit his, you know, like hand in glove, and ev’ry part of you needs him so much.
And then you see his eyes are led elsewhere, and peaches slip between those lips so fair.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2018-01-21 04:45 pm (UTC)When rose-soft lips are parted with a moan,
and tongue darts out and moistened heated breath
slips into air and mingles with your own,
then you would kiss them if it meant your death.
And then, your own lips parted wide, you lean,
and lift a hand to toy with golden hair,
and raise your eyes upon blue eyes so keen,
awaiting such soft kisses with your pair.
It seems, you think, he only wants your love.
It seems, you think, he’s waiting for your touch.
Your lips fit his, you know, like hand in glove,
and ev’ry part of you needs him so much.
And then you see his eyes are led elsewhere,
and peaches slip between those lips so fair.