Moët & Jeans

February 1st, 2024

Dear one

 Your lips taste like Moët & Chandon

your tongue, the forbidden fruit

fore playing as we dance to “Jeans ”

these four walls are the hidden empyrean

the immediate past feels like a montage

for which we are to film the titillating scenes

words fall short to describe the shivers

when your baritone whispers cajolery

Smuts couldn’t recount

how you make me gasp for air

My soul yearned with an insatiable longing

that only you can subdue

Let the role playing games begin

daring little secrets between thy tongue and my legs

perhaps a randevu or two

let the bodies dictate what come next

Tell me how you relish my sweet nectar

as you devour thy peach

Tell me if you burn for me

like the Duke of Hastings

long nights,

red wine

a salacious affair

‘till sunrise

Yours truly,

Ibis