He lays her down on a soft white duvet,
a field of fresh snow.
His face taut with hunger he allows his
eyes to wander across all that is her.
It is her lips, red, full and wet.
Bending his head down he drinks in
his fill and finds himself wanting more.
The creamy column of her neck, the
swell of her breasts.
To her lips he returns.
He stays to fill his soul.
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