The maze of your heart,

intricately intertwined lace

of thoughts that reminds me of art.

The lines of life on your face

marking the infamous start.

My lips mapping the road,

of stories that yet to unfold.

 

The sounds of your pleasure,

rolling down my spine,

The grief cannot measure

The moment of you being mine,

is the time I gingerly treasure.

You yearn to be taken wholly,

and I explore you – slowly.