She flutters her lashes, tiny bird wings
eyes tilting up
a slow frame-by-frame movie
plays in his mind – he reaches

Yet not far enough, a space
of  in-between, of… not quite sure

A pause so sweet, the air is damp with
breath
drops of honey on quivering lips
a meeting of silky wet, curious mouths

fragility, that every second
captures in the small tremble of

quickly beating hearts, her hand
caught-up
in a lock of his hair
she likes the taste of him

He likes the feel of her fingers on his face
tentative tongues explore

A tango of warm passion
a teasing
lick across full open lips
sampling flavoured gloss

He likes the scent of her glistening skin
she is arrested by his hurried, gentle touch