It's humid
A kind of humid oppression that slows me down to a drawl
It surrounds and presses in like a pressure cooker
Electric currents amplified
Energy keenly felt in every molecule of moisture
Hanging in the air around me as it seeps in to my pores
A slow burn
Filling me like a Molotov cocktail
I wiggle and squirm as my body begins to pulse
Buzzing and humming in it's tipsy state
Slippery but not numb
Abra-come-grab-ya
Straddling urges
The word '****' my paternoster
As I kneel at the alter of your lap
How much that hard K sound reminds me of the sound of your hand
Finding my mark