Skin sliding against skin.
Hot breath mixing in the air.
And you're underneath me,
Looking up,
My hair is falling around my face.
And you smile and whisper
"Mine."
More smiles,
A flushed face.
"Yours."
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts
PoetryMy thoughts tend to form like poems, so I figured I'd share them- part of me hoping they make sense to more than just myself.
Touch
Skin sliding against skin.
Hot breath mixing in the air.
And you're underneath me,
Looking up,
My hair is falling around my face.
And you smile and whisper
"Mine."
More smiles,
A flushed face.
"Yours."