Her words like warm molasses,
deep dark rich tone spills from
lips moist, inviting and welcoming
Her laughter full of womanly robust
wanton sounds, stars at the stomach
rolls up her chest and explodes from
those rich full lips
the sinewy state of her body,
practiced ease as she moves
fingers softly touching, warm caressing
fingers, pressed against that mouth
The mouth, that whispers the words,
that tempt, the promising sounds of her
tiniest sigh, from those lips
Yea that mouth.
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