Undressed Destinations

You, milady, are the destination
I crave.

Unlike other women
I have met, and loved, albeit
so briefly, in bathroom stalls
and hotel rooms, you are not
comprised of sandcastles,
eaten away by time.

You are no hourglass either, yet
you redefine the meaning
of gorgeousness for me. Your
skin, pulled taught across
a body older than mine,
still retains its silky texture,
whenever my hands are permitted
to touch.

You were always brown,
your tan having browned
you further, until you resemble
a piece of toast, so edible, so
delicious.

A tight black dress ends
just below your waist.

You sit on the edge
of the bed, legs
crossed, the perfect outline
of where your legs meet your
back, being utterly irresistible.

Your hair sounds just like
the ocean, as it rolls across
your frame, once you eject those
hearty strands out from the red
scrunchie.

Your eyes are as equally dark,
yet mirror the light
of the room, your nose, a small,
smooth triangle; your lips,
kissable and moist. I could lose
my mouth inside those lips
of yours.

Your arms are long,
much like your legs, void
of pocks and blemishes.

I take you in, completely, like
oxygen. Your figure is so
succulent in the dim light.

Why travel anywhere, when I
can be here with you?

Your hands, so soft,
yet worked over by
your professional duties,
gently rip the shirt I wear
from my shoulders, and stroke
the hairs that cover my chest
like a duvet.

You unbuckle my trousers.

My hands move your skirt,
revealing your lack
of undergarments. Your fleshy
backside, rounded and curvaceous,
feels firm within my grasp,
as you undo that dress of yours,
like skinning a banana, revealing
the mountain range you have
hidden there, your bosom
gently bouncing agaisnt your skin.

Soon, they will be bouncing
agaisnt my face, and cupped
by these lips of mine,
as we admire each others
nudity, before becoming joined
at the waist, a collection of tangled
spider limbs wrapped around
each shapely figure, for the
remainder of the evening.

-Derek Childs

This poem was written in response to the prompt ‘landscape’ for #introtopoetry

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