Tides of passion dance on tickling tongues,
A salty wave that crashes and throngs,
Lips meet in fiery embrace,
A sensuous rhythm, a gentle pace.
Skin on skin, a feverish heat,
A symphony of desire that cannot be beat,
Moans and sighs in sweet crescendo,
A dance of two, a lover’s innuendo.
As the waves recede, a gentle calm,
Lovers entwined in each other’s arms,
The ebb and flow of passion’s tide,
A love that cannot be denied.
© VishalDutia
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