Hush, and feel the flush
and crush upon your body
as the air is expelled in
a gushing, rushing torrid of
****** memories.
Damning you to want more,
you want to thrash at the bedclothes
needing to find that release once more.
Yet you lay there spent in the morning's
hush, laid upon the chest of the one that
has made your heart sing, ears ring and
left you corrupted at the core.
The rise and fall of in sync breathing
is the only sound in the room
hush, hush, hush.