The tension that had set like purple summer dusk over the horizon of the Mojave in an eternal tentative swell that she felt at any moment would birth flood of what was restrained.

And what a dizzying interchange,
         between evening into twilight,
that she would hungrily savor such a craving indefinitely
as though any moment were the moment.
Her lips parted in anticipation each time her eyes fell closed,        
          enraptured in ecstasy,
and she could not escape stuttering visions
  of being near enough to him to touch.
For the first time,
she understood crushingly
                               powerful
                                  arousal
            favoring certain areas over others.
Desire stirred in depths she hadn't known she'd possessed
            from a world away within her body's heaving stillness.
The sound of his voice, low and even,
            soothing and barbed
                  just enough to catch her skin and
                             raise the fine hairs down her arms,
                                                                                       on her neck;
            and a simple sound
    otherwise quiet or insignificant to any other perception
  now unfailingly elicited such sweet shivers.
                From the bases of her lungs, and through
                her body in throbbing shock-waves,
                through her ******* and exciting her *******,
                                                            and pooled within her
                                                womanhood where she drowned  
                                                                                 in the carnality
                                                                    of her ****** demands.
Like a flower insisting upon bloom somehow
                     in the darkness of this dusk
           and it was stunning to find it so compelling-
to bloom where the sun burns still a day away til dawn.