It mounts ever so steadily & stealthily,

As with a slow, unwavering churn

Butter swells to the vessel’s brim

It was buried so deep at the core

Of her being, dormant, discarded

Ignored, never ever to be stirred

Or so she had thought…

But, as the earth never settles

Neither does the molten ardor it conceals

Swirling within, with an awakened fury

Rise those granules of tenderness

Soaked rich with the syrup of lust

And froth they with headiness of wine

To arouse the senses into a giddy,

And trickle rivulets of need that moisten

Yearns she afresh for languor filled nights,

Suffused with a touch that’d quench forever

Her thirsting parched body and soul…

 ~Glowing Embers~