The sweet caress of your touch,

Gentle yet strong, but not threatening,

Relaxes my shoulders and melts my stress away.

The softest brush of your kiss

In the crook of that spot on my neck

Ignites a fire I can not easily put out.

Why do you do this to me,

My precious imp? Teasing me just so.

You turn me from ice to a hot spring

With just the right press of your lips,

Starting a blaze that will burn long,

And it’s embers will drift through the ages.

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