Part I.
Tonguing down,
tied together,
tangled mass, moving towards temptation.
We know not what we do, yet we proceed.
Teeth tear on my lips,
tickle my neck,
tease my composure.
And we made this, and it was good.
Your hands hold my hollow body,
proving your power in the crescent of my lower back,
drawing me further into your unrelenting grasp.
So we question what we know.
Something seems good,
after the sweat scorches our passions and we place ourselves sweetly
side
by
side.
This thing pervades when all else fades,
enraptured in your eyes,
ever entranced by their similarity.
Your lips,
more lovely parted in a private joke
perusing parts of me left uncovered,
lead me into a longing,
leaving me lost without your smile.
So say I’m childish and naive,
but know that
I have known man before, and now feel something more substantial than just your body.
Part II.
I see the lines of your arms advancing,
awkwardly
asking me to retreat.
I will not be led away to your bedroom.
I see the curve of your cheek,
your neck,
pulling me from conversation.
I will not lose interest.
I see your waist
waiting for the warmth my arms will provide.
I cannot deny this wish.
But something more powerful than pleasure prevails,
because it is in this attraction that I am aware of more.
Part III.
In my mind lust and longing follow from liking and fascination.
