Need

Need fills me to brim
you lay there leg slightly cocked
I glimse where I want to be
you lay bare beneath your gown
your hand moves down.

A tongue on lip
you fill me to horn
your hand pushes open
the doors, from where men are born.

Silky path trickling
like a horny snail,
as your fingers pull
and twist and leave
a hot sticky trail.

Me and the mirror
moan to perfectoin
we both come
on reflectoin.