Your answers, though quick,
read like poetry themselves.
Waves pounding the shore.

When you understand
that a woman
is, by design,
tender and refined,

you don’t feel the need
to rush in with speed;
to plunge headlong
with drooling, forceful tongue.

Instead, you rely
on the touch of a butterfly
landing lightly on a new flower:
Then she’s in your power.

When you can feel her breath
almost begging you: “Next!”
and can taste of her sweetness
as you hold her face in caress,

then
is when

you can feel, and give her,
anticipated bliss:
That gentle, tender,
yet passionate, kiss.

I hope you sleep well,
friend, and dream of men with large
Vocabularies.

Words like rivulets
flow out of my fingertips
or over my lips.