When he enters you and his hot breathe is in your ear and he crumbles at YOUR touch you feel like an exquisite master piece spun together by the thinly crafted threads he weaves. When he dips his tongue along your ridges and youR lumps and bumps,the curves of your hips and the dips in your spine,MY GOD,you swear you can taste a bruised infinity. The feeling rises to a crescendo when your legs quake and your body shakes and all the air is stolen from your lungs until your a formless mass of need and sweet and torturous BEAUTIFUL humanity at his feet. When he leaves..
when he leaves..you ache and quake and your shoulders shake,the God damn dam breaks he takes and takes and somehow. SOMEHOW..you've convinced yourself that this is giving.
YOU ARE READING
Poems and excerpts from books I probably won't write.
PoetryThese are poems and excerpts from books I probably won't right. All of them belong to me. If you steal them I will sue you.
