It’s not the “if”but the “when”,
That idea humming in the
Back of your mind-
The question echoing
In hushed tones, on repeat-
when will I succumb
To the ache to be
Consumed, primally,
Viscerally, again,
To be muscle and nerve,
Sinew and synapse,
To exist only as breath and bliss-
To let thought and process
Dissolve under his touch?

That siren song
Is not yours alone-
It reverberates through my hungry
Frame, my five senses
Alert and famished-
Overwhelming me with
An irresistible longing
To take, to own, to possess-
That urgent call-
our bodies electric, alive with
An unrelenting Desire,
flexing like a heartbeat-
Burning for the other side of
Midnight- when our
Breathing becomes harmony-
And sensibility bows to
pure sensation.