Afterglo

BY CAROLE NICHOLS

The sleepy silence of twilight,

Interrupted only by the soft sighs

Of sated lovers intertwined,

Pulses still with the glow of pleasures

Lived and yet to come.

The salty taste of glistening skin

Lingers on the tongue and

The etheral, mysterious places

Once more awaiting the hot breath

Of passion to fan the hungry flame.

Soothing whispers of satisfaction;

Hearts beating together;

Lips touching, tasting nectar;

Bodies joined as one;

Another memory stored.