Be my bubble bath

by Samantha Lapenna

I gently follow the trail of freckles with my finger,

reminded of how the sun beckons her out of our bed each morning.  

My eyes linger to the seashell pendant below her collarbones.

I empathize with its fragility but I am envious of its closeness. 

Her thighs glisten in the lamplight; 

stretch marks that resemble the great wave of Kanagawa.

How I long to bathe in her ocean, 

taste the remnants of the salt on her skin. 

Her eyes meet mine and truthfully, 

I do not know if they are green or are blue.

“Wash over me”, I whisper. 

Like a wave her movements are both majestic and powerful, 

and I let the tide pull me in – 

closer.

My heart cannot see straight, 

its chambers fill with blood at a faster rate, 

and my emotions pour out from between my thighs. 

I can taste them on her lips.

Together we coast on this high.

Be my bubble bath; 

the warmth I sink into after a long day, 

the gossamer foam that delicately caresses my body – 

“Hold me”. 

And like an artist 

she uses her tongue as a paintbrush 

to transform my rough edges into curves, 

plant kisses between my thighs, 

and water my garden with her moans – 

“Hold me”.

Her breath a light summer breeze. 

I blossom under her gaze, 

like a flower that longs to be picked and brought close to her face.

My petal brushes against her cupid’s bow, 

yearning for an embrace. 

Her lips flutter against mine,

as our bodies interlace.

Sprinkling droplets of sweet nectar 

onto my tongue like fairy dust,

magically taking over my headspace – 

“Lay with me” – 

I know we will be ok 

a feeling this powerful 

simply cannot just go away.