I dream of tracing your voluptuous curves
With my fingertips
Trailblazing the way for my tongue
I hear the quiet rustle of fabric
Pulled up and over
Feel the slide of silk
Downy thighs
My tongue remains tied
Eyes downcast
I fixate on your open-toed sandals
Your toes are ruby jewels I think
Nice toes, I say
With a smile
Which you return
David Trudel © 2013