My hands know you like clever criminals.
familiar with the heat of your skin, but most particularly,
with the way your mouth turns up when you want to smile but can’t remember to.
***
These are the moments.
A moment when my fingers brushed your breasts, where I wanted you to know.
To know how well I can bring teeth and lips to play against your skin.
To know well the tightness inside, a coiling of heated steel that twists in sweet pain.
A moment where I wanted you to push back, to let go and see how far it will take you.
To dare enough to feel my hand, virtual or real, between your thighs and against you.
A moment where you wanted more than you fear and matched it with needs of your own.
One moment that lasted just…this…long.
this poem rocked me so hard …. im in pieces!!!!!!!!!
and im still in pieces gawd u rock!
mmmmmm