A welcome touch, making you smile.
A welcome touch, letting your hair stand.
A welcomed kiss on your shoulder, a touch full of joy.
Running a line with my tongue, shoulder to shoulder.
A whisper in your ear, words unknown, language unspoken, pure lust, pure pleasure.
Arms wrapping around you, warm skin against your shirt.
A deep smile; yes, we are home.
A grand title does not make a good poem.
Kicking a little at your door.
Gently, my hands are full.
Are you there?
Am I welcome?
A gentle rhythm of kicking, at night, with my hands still full, I say “Hi!”.
What does your face look like when you orgasm?
What does your heart beat like when you fly?
What does your sweat taste like when you melt?
Where do you go, when you go? In japan we ain’t coming.
Words by taotsu 