there was
your mouth,
And then
there was
mine.
I can still hear
us breathing,
giggling,
crashing together,
and
I won’t
ever
forget those small,
inconsequential
declarations of attraction—
I am gorgeous,
inconsequential,
****: also inconsequential.
hot: of the least consequence…
until you whispered
—so low I may have imagined it—
beautiful.
And then it changed.
We stopped laughing—
your breaths in my ear
became longer.
my fist became just
my hand,
in your hair.
your hand travelled,
a long journey:
from my **** (amazing, you say)
to holding my face,
a wandering thumb
gliding across my cheek.
And let us not forget
how you stopped
and pulled me closer
before
your lips yielded,
And became more pliable than before,
how
soft and slow,
you kissed me into persuasion.
hi hello, read my previous poem for a bit of fun context