I'm laying on this floor
remembering the feel
of your lips against my temple
and that moment when you
hear my breath hitch.
you know what you do to me
but still you let your mouth
travel down my neck
slowly, as if you're tasting
my skin for the first time
before you grab my face
and take my breath away
with your kiss.
then you pull away
with a smirk on your face
while I fight for air
because you know what you do to me.
you were right
when you said that what you do
is an art.
it's an art I would gladly die for.
that's what you do to me.
