I stole from them, and they never knew.
I left whispered kisses,
just warmth on their throats...
and slipped inside them
though we were never alone.
I've come to know what my women feel.
I've come to exploit
their silent fears.
I am to them what they need from me,
what they beg me to be,
on bent knee....
My tongue soothes hearts with words,
delves into places where sex begins.
Where it grows from a blush, to a flush.
I am an apparition, nurturing an ember at the core,
growing a fever in the flesh, in the depths,
in the space between the hips.
A room of women....
with a craving too deep to appease.
A room of women waiting to come.
Waiting to be the next one.
Gentle words, gentle tongue.
And I am the one
who steals into the room
waiting to see what they wish me to do.