Latch onto me as the bee on the budding petal,
And I’ll grace your palate with my kisses;
My fingers thrum against your skin and make
You gasp and shudder, as if the cold rain pricked you.

I want you to be beneath this cloud, to close your eyes and wait:
When the droplets come, chase them with your tongue,
Let them cascade down your cheek and coat your lips,
And let its scent intoxicate your senses.

Let the cloudburst drown your taste so you remember nothing but this,
And your face will be a dripping canvas of clear paint,
The portrait of nature’s bath.

And when the storm passes and the skies clear,
Look up to see the flushing sunlight of my smile
And I will kiss away the remnants of the rain from your mouth,
Until you decide to begin anew.

Your sigh—flute’s trill upon my waiting neck,
Awakens chords that hum beneath my breast.
Melodies where naked spirits—*****,
Notes wild and free, where passions seek their crest.

Each touch, a whole note, bodies, andante, coalesce,
A prelude to a symphony of our scents,
Where songs of pleasure swell, we gently press,
Our emotions we softly bare—no consent.

Your skin, a sun-warmed drum—hands descend,
We resonate in rhythms—smooth and deep.
Exploring with you, lost in sweet desires, ageless spent.
I taste the salt where gentle currents seek sleep.

Our inner music flows, a tide without a name,
In Gaia's Soothing Haven, our bodies, unashamed.