It’s the morning after & I see the sweat soaked satin sheets, We never could keep them on the bed. I see the hair on your head As if it has lost its style do to humidity. As you lay there sleeping Every breath you take, makes your breasts move in a rhythmic & fluidic Motion. The morning after, now we see each other in our realness No makeup or fine clothes to hide how we really appear, but you’re even now more beautiful In this natural state. My mind goes back to the feel of your breasts as they are massaged by my hands. Back to the warmth of your lips as they are touched by my kiss. The Bishop is in control, As he does only what a man is created to do, and that is to set your soul on fire. Just a few hours ago, I was inside you, moving you to pleasures & heights unknown, giving you all of me, filling you up While bringing every fantasy into reality. Your every moan serves to make me work even harder, and my every moan servers to make you hotter & wetter as we slip & slide. The noise from our bodies moving all about is only surpassed by the cries coming out of our mouths. Yes it’s the morning after, we don’t have to wonder anymore, but yet I’m still loving you like the night before.