Paramour

Your scent lingers on my skin ephemerally

Until all that’s left is a vivid image

And the idiotic smile on my face.

I want to dwell in who you are,

And burrow myself in the curvature of your body.

 

The essence of your supple lips is ubiquitous.

Not an inch of my needy body is untouched

By January’s Paramour kiss.

 

Desire does not have calendars or clocks,

But I can’t help but wonder what April tastes like

Perched between your lips.

Reviews

[Jay]

I think the last three lines could qualify as an accomplished poem entirely of their own. A suggestion, though, might be to reconsider using "but" in the same sentence twice... Maybe you could do without the second usage?
Nice work, Dana.

[Dana Alsamsam]

thank you, this is very helpful! I didn't notice the repetition of "but" until you pointed it out and it definitely improves the flow when you read it aloud.