My Sinful Song

From my anima, Spiritus Mundi

He ventured

down south

roaming

letting temptation

fall along

dark attraction

draped in silk

and feral lust

His hunger

pressing

biting tenderly

my lithe thighs

His head bobbing

in exquisite moments

for ripened release

because a wicked me

is all he craves

buried between

my moans that

tremble his

tongue’s rhythm

*

Ah his skilled tongue

when it dances over

my velvet pink petals

A gentle caress of silk

A flash of teeth

His rasping tongue

lingering there

Slow and sweet

Now drenched in the taste

Of my sinful song