Prose Poetry: Her Morning Bliss

She heard him awaken into her world. He smiled and sweetly kissed her, “I’ll be right back, my love.” He pranced off to another room. His return was accompanied by soft morning notes of musical love and attentiveness, bordering on worship of her complete person from her inside being to her outside; to her hair, still tangled from making love the night before; her skin, sweet and salty to his taste; her lips, tongue, and teeth; to her neck, where his face begins its search of her body; her breasts, piqued by the arousal of his presence; her arms, with hands warmly reaching for his; as her soft waist meets his and their eyes see deep passion and love, he slides his hand down her sensuous legs as he counts her ankles and toes and gently awakens her feet as with magical symphony they begin to dance; to waltz, to no longer be of this world, they sense their magical magnetic origins of universal kismet and rightness. They mute their world as their arousal expands to reach into galaxies of human passion.

Bill Reynolds, 10/19/2018

Look both ways in the morning, mind the gaps cuz love is in the air.

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