trapped inside
the same cyclical
fantasy
a veil of lace
obfuscates
the mystery i've
explored with
gentle fingers
and yearn to sample
with my tongue

tripping and spinning
endless iterations of
vertigo
elusively choking my
psyche which insistently
craves the taste of
flesh upon your neck

i long to fly with
avian flocks
charting a path
across your
collarbones
and make a home
for you curled close
inside my bed but

as of yet
you remain a
fiction
within my
head and a
friction
beneath my sheets