Antiquities rising whitely under our feet
Something more ancient giving off heat.
Passions molded these rocks.
Greek columns tower in blocks.
You're walking uphill, ahead.
I'm imagining me under you, legs spread.
Sun casting white on white
While I remember last night.
Back at the hotel on our bed.
Your mouth, my breasts... the Parthenon so dead
My hot wetness then and now.
The tall, firm columns make think of how
Sweet you would taste right here
I'm not getting enough just looking at your rear.
I reach over for your hand and put it on my wet mound.
You are my man--you don't even bother to look around.
You just push your palm into me until I feel myself dizzy with want.
The tourists keep climbing. We stop for water and to flaunt
The color of lust while it's white and we are young.
I can smell your body. I can feel your hot tongue.