Is it love?
Or do I simply long
For the touch of your tongue on my scorched skin
Is it wrong
That I crave and resent you
With equal measure?
I am at leisure
To act as I choose
Yet I am bound
Beguiled
Bruised.
Bewitched by the kiss
By the touch
That was too much
For either of us to bear;
It ought've remained a fantasy
But your 'love' is addictive
A single drop of water for my parched soul;
It makes me whole
Though the pieces match imperfectly.

My self-preserving hands push you away,
But your heart-stopping gaze moves me to stay.