Tension clouds the air,
mystifying your thoughts,
at the diciest moment;
the moment of resistance.
It's the one that separates you
from standing your grounds
and utter collapse.
Fiddling fingers,
struggle to keep apart.
Drumming around
fighting their urge
to interlace.
A moment,
that stops the time
for you to absorb its vibrance
with all your senses,
and feel it linger in your mind.
Hot breaths exchange,
as a war inside you is ignited.
Eyes shut, as a final mean
of an escape,
for compelling eyes
like the ones before you
will hold you prisoner,
that you can't risk
stealing a glance.
The breaths get warmer,
as the distance is cut shorter
to non at all.
Forehead to forehead.
Finger tips to finger tips.
The air gets thicker.
Breaths, shallower.
Pulses scattered all over.
Brushing noses.
Hushed whispers,
trying to find the words.
Any words
to express
dissatisfaction,
refusal,
dismissal.
But there are non to find.
For whatever unwelcoming words said,
they're not enough to overcome
the demanding statements
our bodies fight to express.
And so a new war erupts within you:
To advance and conquer,
and be the first to strike?
Or to submit;
Lose control
and set your body
free
meeting its demands,
so you no longer have to fight
against its urges?
And however way you plan to play it out,
at the moment of resistance,
one of you will cave.
Lips meet.
Breaths stolen.
Skin clashes on skin.
And fingers mark their way,
all over their new territory.
YOU ARE READING
Behind Her Eyes: A Collection of Poetry.
PoetryHere are my words, thoughts, and most importantly, all the feelings I burry. I've finally gathered the courage to share them, and to share a part of me. Here are the thoughts that visit me through the night put into words; of all there is to fee...
