Dear Sir

You

Make me feel invincible, beautiful, wanton

Your “Look”

Drops me to my knees, every cell coming alive

Your eyes

Lock me down, set me free, eat me up

Your words

Turn me on, put me in my place, feed my soul

Your tongue

Setting my flesh on fire, searing these moments

Your hands

Caress, correct, lift, push, hold

Your fingers

Slide over me, in me, wherever you please

Your strength

Holds me up, takes me further, lets me be

Your dominance

Craved, needed – I blossom, thrive

Your passion

Makes me come, over and over, pure abandon

But your love,

Your love

That is my air, that is my grace, that is my life.

©shygirl

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