Our heartbeats quicken.
Our tongues meet.
It is slippery,
It is wet,
Yet it feels like home.
You bite my lip,
I bite yours.
We pull away,
Deliberately looking at each other—
Deeper than eyes can see.
We start again.
The moon shines.
The night grows dark and dim.
Our love entangled,
Our eyes meet in their escapes—
Running from the rushing heartbeat,
Rushing from a destined occasion.
Our lips meet
For the very first time.
It is soft,
It smells sweet,
It feels right.
Married women:
When her husband moves close to her at night) please stop, I'm not in the mood. Is it every time you're horny? Is sex food? Why are you always horny?
(Tomorrow)
Same woman: (to her friends) Can you believe he was cheating on me with that lady? That thin lady I told you all about. What does she have that I don't have? (But she won't tell them she allows her husband hit only once in two weeks)
Her Friends: Men are scum! You should divorce him. You deserve a man who treats you better.
(Marriage is dissolved)
Postscript: Women don't realise their actions have consequences.
When you fail to feed your man, don't complain when he eats elsewhere, because he won't starve.
He who comes to equity must come with clean hands.