Champagne Chantilly
I am a cloud of ethereal white.
Your hands ground me
Twine around me
Instrumental squeeze on my hips
Fingers fly and chasing lips
Paint moving images of bliss.
Cloud of satin rains
To Egyptian cotton ground
And you
unwrapped pressed black and white
Vibrant warm honey
Rushing flow of skin on skin
Heat thaws winter
The small of my back
Traced up and into my hair
The sun climbs the sky
Trees blossom
We are there.
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I like this revision. It shows and feels more instead of telling.
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