Wake up early in the morning,
The window looks at me and tells me the weather,
Cloudy and rainy with no chance for sunshine,
Engulfed by this gray and black dreary Thirds day is not where sorrow achieves its name.
Renowned for its ability to dampen even the greatest minds days.
But signifies where lovers draw an unexplainable,
Almost a beastly nature to please,
Devour and achieve a new level of fame.
With the rain rapping against the windowpane,
It created a sensual vibration in my ears,
In a marriage with her lungs collapsing and expanding,
Ensure me that I am in for a trip.
With a smile I let my body fall back into bed,
This time not on the pillow but on her soft
Stomach and begin to let my lips work their magic.
With just one flick of the tongue she awakens,
Rejoicing with a moan she tells me to stop
A mixture of joy and seriousness escape with her breath.
Then as if gripped by the weathers spell she began a bionic hold unto my scalp,
Like the everlasting lock death has on life,
She did not loosen but instead encouraged,
Whispering in my ear softly,
As if not to let oxygen herself hear,
The secret fit for the gods.
And in that same breath she gave me the key to the lock,
The secret to life itself with just two words.
Next came an explosion of warm sensations along with her gasping for air
Sending her to clutch for the sheets,
Thunder soon joined in amongst the heavy breathing of the lovers,
As they increased motion.
The rain began its heavy bombardment against the window,
Relentlessly pounding, Sweat begins to rear its face,
Soon arms then full body.
So tremendous was the flow of this wetness,
It lubricated the lover’s graceful movements.
Then in the final moments wind with her ability to soothe and comfort roars across the trees,
As if to show one last act of defiance amongst nature,
However that is short-lived as the lovers fall back into bed,
And the sunlight begins to shine unto two unique but like entities of love,
Holding each other drifting back into a deep sleep…