The angels loose their measurements
over her beauty,
As her ravenous smile entices my
amorous self into desires.
She resembles the virgin altar top
that is spread with myrrh and thyme,
Those balanced fragrances that
bewitch my sanity.
I’m involved in her cravings, the
persistent heat that tickles my palms,
So much that I want to paint her skin
Explicitly confirm my trails on the
highway of her thighs,
Yet the admiration I have for her
curves, halts me
And I start afresh.
I salivate at the response of her
breathing and continuous sighs,
Even as the stage for my
presentation lights and displays
I preen in the hallways of her mouth
Yet I’m entranced more by how her
eyes suddenly resemble the fortress that houses the god’s secret bedroom.
She takes pleasure in harmonious
whispers and captivates my elusive
Poetic seduction, the soliloquy of perfection hangs desperately from
From all that, my eyes fall on the pews of her chest,
And I want badly to read the sermon
from her heralding bubble.
I search hungrily for the bated breath and smiles of her twins,
As she effortlessly snaps from her
coverings and violin disguise,
Underneath all the wildness, there
lies something magical.
She’s the art, that keeps my
procrastinating pen on its toes,
She marinates the dictates of the
gods and contexts,
But the waxing of my body with her
tongue endears me to death.
I worship the sensations as my hands
squirt on her puppeted rears.
Deeply intense, as I peer in the spectrum of her elusive fotress.
She gives in and lets the visions of
my prophet-hood proclaim …
Her collective union, enamors
subjective links to my objective probing.
Her starlights of picturesque heights tangle sparks inside me,
Wriggling, shaking as the mere ink
overflows at the breath of her lungs.
Each pulsating movements, births
depths of her innocent magic.
I lay again, on love’s intense mouth –
latched and laced with precious brews
of her pleasure and perfection.
© Eddy Ongili