Intoxicating Spirits

You have access to my spirit.
Feel it. Breathe it. Touch it. Hear it.
Your hands on my spine.
Your magic on my mind.
I can't get enough.
I crave your firmly gentle touch.
It's spiritual. Lyrical. Spherical. A miracle.

We've weathered the storm.
Now lay into my bosom where I'm warm.
Like your touch, so magnetic. Electric. I'm pathetic.
I crave you so bad.
The energy. The power. The force we had.

Put your lips onto mine..
My jaw..my neck..let your tongue tingle my spine.
Do it again. And again. Let me be your sin. Your gin. Let me intoxicate you with my skin.
On yours. Touch me soft. Hard. Just do it again.

In more ways than one, you pleasure me.
Spiritually, sexually, creatively, mentally.
So let me be your complicated melody.
Because my life without you is hell on me.

You're so talented. Brilliant. Intelligent. A genius.
Erotic. Exotic. Your fire. It lingers.
Your waves I want to ride, glide on and be consumed.
You pull, then push, forever leaving me bemused. 
But the passion we've had since we met.
It's ice on fire. It's intoxicatingly kismet.

Your hands have touched my body across multiple lifetimes.
It's in the cards, the stars, metaphysically, you're mine.
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I don't need pills, weed, coke or wine.
You're my aphrodisiac. My dope. My way.
My lifeline.

Light touches. My lover. I flutter. No other.
Be consumed with me. Groove with me. Make love to me euphorically.
And have access to my spirit.
Feel it. Breathe it. Touch it. Hear it.