Scorcheous you.
My eyes don't see anything.
But your walk.
As your curves tease me,
sashaying along the corridor.
Like a scorching knife
you cut through butter me.
My ears don't hear anything.
But your heels.
As your Jimmy Choos drum
those granite tiles.
Like two glistening stilettos
slitting the throat of my heart.
My nose doesn't smell anything.
But your incense.
As your scent wafts in
from everywhere blurring me.
Like hungry venus fly traps
snapping shut my head.
My skin doesn't feel anything.
But your heat.
As your flames lick me
bathing me in liquid fire.
Like a soft french loaf
deep shoved into an industrial oven.
My tongue doesn't taste anything.
But your promise.
As your invisible nectar
drowns me in a pool of misery.
Like a dripping honeycomb
that exploded in my mouth.
i am borrowing scorcheous. payment shall be made in installments.
I think you may have invented an amazing new word. This poem is erotically 'Scorcheous' from beginning to end - searingly blazeous, in fact. ;)
What imagery used here ! ! - - it dances around the ears like the beams around sun - - love personified as french bread and fly traps sounds as tempting as the scrumpious word "scorcheous" .