Hold your peachy face in my hands.
Rub my thumbs a little around your blush.
Kiss you just a little so we both shudder,
and trace the anatomy of your jawline and ears.
Squeeze a little your neck in my grasp.
Feel your smooth skin hiding hard collarbones.
Draw one broken heart on your chest,
and shove you down the flight of stairs
so you learn to land on your two feet.
That’s the idea of you.
Pace down the stairs, lift you in my arms,
and let you wrap your legs around my trunk.
Lick all lipstick to kiss your naked lips,
and stumble a little more in love with your wickedness.
Nuzzle a little my nose in your neck and hair.
Grab your bottom lip in my teeth, and pull.
Nudge your head a little away from me,
and whack your ears to the whistling sound
so you learn to focus on one thing at a time.
That’s my idea of you.
Lay you on the bed; walk on top of you on all four.
Undress you so slowly that you cry for more.
Tie your hands overhead so you cannot touch,
and tease your breasts with feathery fingers.
Admire you naked, twitching ‘n flushing underneath,
then bombard your body with warm gentle kisses.
Stop around the gorgeous navel as you whimper in love,
and blow on your tummy like a three-year-old would,
so you learn to snort and laugh in helplessness.
That’s my idea, my goddamn effing idea of you.
but you know nothing.