Jasmine. Bye, moon.

Jasmine by moon,
Until the moon says bye.
The scent ensnares you and I,
Caressing alongside our silhouettes,
Gripping groin and thighs, dissipating,
Back into air.

Fingertips to,
Neck.

Finding harder to leave,
Breathe,
You wanting to inhale only me.
Behind me,
Wanting me, marking me,
For my memory.

Your palm fastening tight,
Guiding your clutch, moving,
Pulling you into me.
I can smell the earth and sandalwood taking,
Hostage the,
Softer parts of me.

“Please,” begging you,
Imprisoning, not setting free.
What was I thinking?
Sugar-coating me.

“Ma… That scent,”
A brown tiger snarling, you,
Licking the night from my skin.
Poised, on top of,
My ear,
Lips on my nape,
Moving,
Down,
Clinging,
Tracing,
Petal pink peeks,
With your finger nails.

Continuing,
Anticipation.
Waiting…

Soft and swollen.
A hint of,
Perfume oil attached to,
My ankles and wrists,
Places you grip and insist.

Moan for me, my Prince.

You,
I,
Jasmine,
Moon,
We,
Lie,
Entangled ’til,
You, the moon and I say bye.

Between Jerusalem and Mexico series, a taboo love.