THE TONGUE DANCE

In the realm of words, a dance so bold,
The tongue's allure, a tale unfolds.
A teasing word, a rhyme's embrace,
Ignites a fire, a passionate chase.

Within evocative prose's artful sway,
An ache ensues, hearts in disarray.
Tempt and tease, a delicate game,
Time's blush emerges, a burning flame.

Aching increases, pulses race,
Heavy breathing, hearts embrace.
Pants and sighs, bodies entwine,
Ascending higher, passion's incline.

Razor stubble chafing, sensation's flight,
Frantic, restless, seeking delight.
Towards that peak where desires soar,
Begin begging, longing for more.

With wet tongue's dip and subtle flick,
Fingers' touch, a tantalizing trick.
Yearning rises, hearts aligned,
Please, I beg, intertwine.

You gaze at me with a wicked grin,
Pressing fingers, igniting skin.
Slowly in, desire's tune,
Quivering, trembling, to the moon.

That single touch, the surge it took,
I quaked and shook, my core it shook.
You smiled, a knowing look you wore,
My body spent, craving for more.

Glancing at your pants, I spy a tent,
The turn is mine, the moment sent.
With a smile, I whisper, "Your turn now,"
Oh, how we crave, we ache, we vow.

God, please, yes, it's been a while,
In this dance, we find our style.
The dance of tongues, an intimate art,
Two souls entwined, never to part.

Imran Nazeer
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