I want to touch
the sharp taste
of the moment in between
the second just before
the place where
the breath catches
in anticipation.
It's the scent of heat held in the air
between two mouths
reaching for each other, hungry.
The shine of moisture on slightly parted lips
just before
it melts into
the wetness of the other.It is the skin that tingles
waiting
fine hairs at attention
reaching
aching.
It is the places that have not yet been touched
but know they will be.
It is the smooth, quivering paleness
of the inner thigh
as the outer is stroked and kneaded.
The muscles of the abdomen tightening
the back arching slightly
begging
come here
quickly
slowly.There, in that moment
do not take your eyes from mine.
I am here
awake
1 am
reaching
to be
met.Do not touch me and keep your soul
out of your fingertips.
Die into me
or do not come into me at all.
Ever after is in this moment
happily or not.Sacrifice the daydream.
Dare to hold the desire
for a great love.
.
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