Long, black hair, and buxom.
Tight teal tank top, strained.
Cut off shorts, frayed, worn.
The S shape, the ample flesh,
warm and soothing, absorbing,
the softest sanctuary in this Eden.
It’s an Indian Summer, a reprise,
and she is the Goddess of Summer,
and of Sleep, as Samhain comes now.
She leads me by the hand, up stairs,
turning back, smiling, ass scissoring
under that tight and worn denim.
The best part, all that can be is now,
in this moment, before She Sleeps,
and the spirits return to us, one night.
Naked, she is on top, kissing me,
her warm breasts flat against me,
holding me down, to be absorbed.
She is the Big Spoon, holding me in.
Samhain comes soon, and the lost come,
to the orange bonfires, to chill of this life.
Her flesh enveloping me, making me whole,
mounds of her breasts, pooch of her tummy,
warm and safe, as Samhain, and winter comes.
She is the Goddess that gives me Sleep………