First Light

We leave the kitchen a mess
of spilt milk, crumbled bread crust, and honey
dripping from a forgotten jar.

Breakfast is on crumpled sheets
clenched between tight fingers
and crushed under the weight of two.

Your heavy breath whispered between
hard kisses sinks beneath my skin
and warms my soul.

I can taste your scent in my mouth
as if licked from your hot skin:
hints of orange peel body scrub.

Heaven is to drink in your lips
and savour the taste of your tongue
exploring behind my teeth.

I live for these moments, bathed in sunlight,
teasing with those almost kisses and the
love that lives between them.

Lazy fingertips trace swells and valleys
of tight, aching flesh and
lacquered delicate creases.

But grace and ease give way
to tangled limbs that clutch and seize
with ever greater urgency.

The prickling heat of sweet agony is cooled
by the beads of sweat on our skin,
shimmering at sunrise like rain-soaked alabaster.

We dance in the glow of scattered amber,
an undulating braid of slick, hot love
and whispered, saliva-streaked worship.

Kiss better the red, burning marks
of lustful possession and
speak French between my thighs.

Breathless we writhe, clammy tussled hair
clinging to my face like a shroud
hiding hungry eyes all ablaze.

And without warning we set fire to the world
around us as we are voraciously consumed
until nothing remains.

You asked for everything I had to give
and without hesitation
my body answered.

And there we lie, sated and cocooned
in damp white cotton, gasping for air.
Just freckles and sunshine.