He kissed me like the cure for diseases was down my throat; like there is a drought and the only water supply is between my lips.
I felt the ocean and the moon and the sun working together. I felt hurricanes. It was somehow calming, but maddeningly chaotic.
He looked at me the way he looks at someone spitting mad bars. Luckily, he looked excited and intreged watching hip hop.
He once told me that my mouth is a black hole, swallowing the dark matter that is his tongue. But, what I really think he meant was that things are always drawn to it, getting lost inside.
Helpless yelps of both agony and relief escaped his body. They became small echoes hitting the back of my throat.

I feel disoriented after I'm away from him.
I'm on auto-pilot. No thought involved. Just walking. In a daze. Not exactly thinking things through. Just movement.
He wanted to rip my back open like all of my secrets lived there. And I let his fingers graze the curvature of my back. It was a marvelous experience. I let myself go. I allowed him to let go in my embrace.

**~~a.s.f.