The curves

Taking the time to unwind as you hug my curves with
every word from your sugar coated lips, caressing my
hips with your verbs massaging my mind with your
analytical, lyrical verses. Harmonic, melody, a
symphony in my ears a drumbeat in my heart, a deep
breath a contented sigh. A hand squeeze in the lower
part of my back, only to slide down and touch my
thickness. A sly smile touches his full lips and I
knowingly sense that he is wanting to dip in my pool
of knowledge. Turning to face him, I let him pull my
thoughts into his run on's and adding my commas
turning them into a complete sentence. No fragments
here, just soliloquies and vibrations of words dancing
off of the tip of my tongue into his ear, no sense of fear
here. No tears, just words, unheard while my mans
verbs hug my curves.....words, spoken softy while
driving slowly up the road of vowels and sounds,
broken English and slang, that southern twang, sweet as
iced tea. My curve-hugging vowel speaking love is
touching my soul with his words, unheard of by many,
just for me...and his hands are still trying to find the
beat of my curves meticulously, he knows the way all
he has to do is say the words.