Becoming Welsh

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Finding more of myself these days
And so excited, thrilled to be
A part of someone, to become “we”

It’s so seldom real wishes come true
Wondering if feels the same way
Just waiting for him to ravage me
Savagely.

His lips so red, sweet and full
Tasting as good as aged winedee
My savoury against his olive branch
Causing me to stand on the edge

Arms and neck soft and close
To my body, sweet and divine
Pausing to kiss the space between

Shoulder and where it bends
He sings out to me in pulses
My body is almost melting

Anticipating his kiss
On the lips and neck,
Oh How I love this
Perhaps I’m becoming …
Welsh.

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