Fck You.

I want to know what it feels like to,
exchange breaths,
against your mouth.
And have your tongue dance around,
the contours of my body.
To feel that mixture,
of heat and ecstasy.
As our bodies collide,
in tandem.
We'll speak in soft whispers,
amid hard valleys.
A rolling thunder,
a deep rumble.
That beckons,
and echoes.
Inside me.

She's not used to charcoaled hands,
a pushing path
of guiding graphite.
It moves her body in certain ways
breaking boundaries
forever stable.

I find myself in tangles,
deep breathing,
seething spirals,
and crystal constellations.
Wondering how I ended up in this circle.
Questioning,
When did the world become so small?

She stood straight in starving silhouette
begging the boy to inch closer
but all he saw was a hopeless shadow
and pleas that faded into a whisper

I reach out in forbidden distress,
trying to catch the empty
and still, somehow
get shocked when my hands fall through
to thin expectations
and laughable promises
I made myself believe

Don't bother to waste your breath
I watch as it pours,
in endless torrent
caressing speech and favored tongues
how does it feel to finish the words
and still feel missing