The sweat on your skin is like nectar
It’s not the sugar but the salt I crave
The droplets that develop on your neck
Those that slowly trickle down your chest
Your rhythm of warm breaths control me
Causing a cyclone of imagined touches
Pictures of things I alone know I wish
Locked away in the vaults of my private mind
But my eyes keep a window open, you notice
Your twinned unique mixes of green hues fixate
The tone of your voice melts me, as you talk
You make my soul want everything yours
Your fingers tracing my path, trickling down
Your whispered words form a warm storm in my mind
The salty sweetness of your essence engulfs me
I crave only the nectar that is the promise of you