you'll notice
every inch of his skin,
like his prominent
collarbones
or how hollow
his cheekbones are

and you'll be
captivated by how
shadows easily nestle
into all of
his features

and then you will
know that i
have looked at
those same features
and have already
been enraptured
by them,
myself.

some days the sadness comes in little rain droplets, like when I smell his scent or when I think I hear his voice on the street. but some days, the sadness comes in as a roaring hurricane. I'm flooded with every last memory to my name. the laughs, the smiles, and silence. beautiful silence. we never needed words.
I fell in love with the burning sensation that came with his touch. but he put the fire out with his cold words, like he was holding me under water. I was drowning in my own tears.  

--ank

I want to feel his feather-soft fingertips grazing the curves of my body,
To reverently hold him in my arms beneath the pale moonlight,
To feel the heat of his skin on mine.
I yearn for the warm, insistent coaxing of his lips,
The sound of his whispering voice,
And the feeling of his breath tickling my ear.
I want tenderness in his beautiful eyes, his words, his touch.
I long for his capable arms, his easy smile, the masculine smell of his body.
I need gentleness within his insistence, desire within his need, compassion within his reckless abandon.
I don't want *** from him,
I want to make love.

Just a little kiss he said
His draped  arm around her shoulders squeezed , shlumping in towards her.
I don't know.....she said.
Her innocent wide eyes and tightly curled hair were frightened.
Come on, don't be a ***** he said,
eyes droopy, voice smelling condescending and aroused.
He tasted his lips before flashing his teeth.
Strong fingers locked into her pristinely wound tendrils
shoving a resisting skull towards his probing lips.
She tensed, squealed, tried to turn away
but he only pulled her closer like quick sand, or an anaconda.
His hand immediately rounded second base, clamping onto her tender ******* like a bear trap
before kneading them and moving to the hem of her blue dress.
She muffled a scream into his mouth, but the black hole just absorbed and incinerated the sound.
His hand travelled up her knee, to her thigh
which was soft, and clean.
He thought they probably smelled like Ivory soap and angel laughs.
The further north his hand travelled, the higher pitched the squeals became.
He wanted to experiment how far he needed to move until her voice became  audible only to dogs.
He smiled into her cheek
he was a glorious, powerful tiger and she was an unassuming gazelle with a limp.
Really, he was doing her a favor
ending her misery before someone less humane devoured her tragic beauty.
He bit her neck, rendering her paralyzed
with fear.
Come on, don't be such a ***** he said,
Nobody likes a *****.