Holy Ghost of Ecstasy and Relief
His fingers trace down my stomach, lower, past my belly button, lower still
He begins stroking me softly, a hand cradling my neck ever so gently
I melt like chocolate discarded on the sidewalk on the hottest day of the summer
Sin never felt so holy until he touched me there, right there, the spot that aches for him
And, like that ache beckoned for him, he finds it every time
Reduces me into a crescendo of nerves and pleasure
Sends me crashing like a wave, more like a tsunami
Maybe I’m just the quiet girl at the cafe
But to him I am sacred, something to be slowly devoured
His voice calls me home, teases the release from me
I sob in his arms afterwards, Holy Ghost of Ecstasy and Relief
From that day on, I am his.
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Posted Oct 21, 2022, 5:29 PM UTC