Italicized phrases are the work of ee cummings and his poem "i like my body when it is with your".

I can feel her heart sigh, I sigh, in reverberation. Her back arches, my own pale crescent moon. I have caught the moon, the impossible feat, and she is mine. I am hers.

i like my body when it is with your

Hips rise and the waves from the tide her very being creates fall down as she falls down and we fall down in increments of bliss and raise up, swelling. "You are a goddess," I whisper to her, and watch the contradicting earth in her eyes as she loves me, I love her, we love, "You bring me beauty in life. You, my darling…"

body. It is so quite new a thing.

My head raises, her hips raise, I watch myself in her and her skin is an ocean of smooth pale that washes delicately over me, silky strands of hair brushing my chest as she leans against my chest, against my beating heart, beating out to her, she gasping in delight. It is always good, always great, always love and always fresh because love is eternal and never dims. Maybe she is not the moon for she does not wane, but a goddess for sure, makes my sure.

Muscles better and nerves more.

"You make me beautiful," she groans in soft cadences as her body is pleasured in little zings of nerves that I can not see but her face is a wonder, a garden I have seen before but she blooms new flowers even as I stare. I love her garden; I plant the seeds myself and watch in adoration as she grows them from the earth in her eyes.

i like your body. i like what it does,

"When I'm inside you," I whisper, lifting my body to hers, beating heart against racing heart, beating out the dark, racing toward the ecstasy, my blinding light, ours. These lips, curious petals of flesh a different shade glued to our faces to speak and touch in pleasure, to let in and out, open against her listening ear to let out all my secrets she already knows, "I want to be afraid, but I'm too filled with you to feel anything desolate at all."

i like its hows. i like to feel the spine

Twist and move under my gentle fingers, she does, writhing and panting, yet never forgets me. Soft, petite hands hold my face, my center of self and keep me safe in that embrace. We are like mirror pieces, reflecting and fitting together, showing each other what we need and knowing that we can have it because we belong together. Her eyes are the color of the earth and I know I was made for her, she was made for me, my eyes being the color of life that is only born because of the foundation she provides. "Why would you be afraid if I let you?" she asks, then kisses me, kisses me, kisses…

of your body and its bones, and the trembling

Work of art I hold in my arms is she, she the epitome of all that I love and adore, and there is nothing I can not tell her, can not give, when she asks and so I hold her closer, so I thrust my love inside her, so I make her cry out and I want to answer but I get distracted because her skin is beautiful, it's like -

-firm-smooth ness and which i will

- crawl inside and it will never be close enough but this is as close to perfection, this is as close as I can get, hearts together, flesh seared in wet heat, it's so warm here in her, so safe, encompassed in the cocoon of her body and inner walls that hold me oh so lovingly, flex oh so temptingly, my loving lust goddess, made just for me.

again and again and again

I roll us over and thrust and pound inside, get swept away in the beauty of everything; it's not just her but it is her because everything resonates from her, even me realizing that I play a part too. She loves me too. I want to cry and I'm reminded of what I said and what she asked, she asked and now I must answer because we're equals but I know she owns me as I own her. I want to rewrite the dictionary so words are more perfect for us, but for now this must do and I answer as she's sweating and panting and never looking away from me as we gaze, enraptured; "I want to be afraid of losing you, losing this, of one day waking up or not waking up and never again being able to feel you or this or do anything or…"

kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,

"My beautiful," she sighs. Hands, such merciful hands, such kind, remarkable fingers run through my penny hair, its worth only stemming from the worth she gave it and I am the richest man alive. "Never be afraid of that. I will always be with you. Somehow. You know."

i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz

As my hand trails down our bodies, slipping into the cherished place we connect, the place that people will pay money to go, that sell their soul to know, never understanding they overshot the destination by a universe and some for you can't buy this, and I stroke her gently because I need her tide to crash and break in laudable proportions so she can take my love and manifest it and hold it with permanence inside, so she can feel good, so I too can feel, oh that feeling…

of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes

And here we go as her body goes rigid but she's letting it go, her walls clench around my length and there's spasms which shouldn't be good but she makes them beautiful, this is beautiful, and I become that as I let it go too with a groan and sigh, we sigh our words that I want to rewrite in the dictionary to make more perfect for us but these will do for now because she knows, we know, what we mean because it's only we.

over parting flesh, …And eyes big love-crumbs,

Her gaze tells me everything I need to know with our damp foreheads pressed together like this in the aftermath glow. Even when the glow dims the warmth will never leave; we carry that with us, inside us, and if ever she starts to feel cold she knows she can run into my arms and find the heat again, gladly I give, gladly I give it to her.

and possibly i like the thrill

Her words give me, and give to me, as well, the comfort and maybe I don't need to rewrite the dictionary because she knows how to make these perfect, I find perfect in her, my goddess, sometimes moon, always earth; my life. "I love you…" Just a sweet sigh from her sweet mouth, meant for my ears, and slowly her eyes close and she relaxes, more and more, until she slumbers in my arms, body mine, and mind lost for now. But I know I can always find her.

of under me you so quite new

"My love, my love, you know it's yours."

Short drabble to stave off the writers block. I love this poem and was finally inspired to write. Please let me know what you think.

- The Romanticidal Edwardian