HER BODY GESTURES

In her body gestures, a tale unfolds,
A poem of passion, desire untold.
Her flower, his writing desk so divine,
He dips his tongue, creating lines.

Her dripping honey, a potent ink,
He weaves his words, his heart does think.
Erotic love poems, a symphony of bliss,
Her moans, the notes he won't miss.

Her words, a mystery, wrapped in allure,
But her body language, a canvas pure.
His writing starts in a slow rhymn,
Then quickens pace, his emotions swim.

Reaching the climax of her ink,
His tongue dances, as words sync.
His fingers pause, a semicolon to place,
His lips form a period, her ecstasy's grace.

On her wet, glorious flower hole,
He writes with love, his heart's soul.
Her poetry complete, as she finds release,
In his arms, her passion finds peace.

In her body gestures, a sonnet is penned,
A love story crafted, that will never end.
Their union of bodies, an artful creation,
Their love's language, a beautiful narration.

Imran Nazeer
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