Cinnamon Kiss
The sweet pepper smell of cinnamon permeates;
I can't wait, with my wild heart rate,
For you to satiate my needs and abate my seeds.
Drain my body, pull upon my soul,
Tug at my skin, make my head spin.
I'll be the ruler of hell if this is a sin,
When we begin to be akin within.
Outside is tingles and energy;
Our bodies are ready to feel the steady beat,
From head to feet, of another's heart beat.
Skin pulses, veins throb,
Clothes come off,
Inhibitions come off;
Skin finds intimate skin,
Matching those feelings within.
Nothing else exists,
Except Two and the one thing that persists,
The sweet pepper smell of a cinnamon kiss.
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