Her kiss is the brush of silk against your lips.
The faintest taste,
The slightest touch.
It caresses your neck and shoulders,
Flushes your cheeks and raises a flutter of wings beneath your skin.
You float with your eyes closed,
Your breath forgotten at your throat,
and cling to the sensation knowing it can’t last.
And it doesn’t.
It slips away,
fading to an impossible hunger,
a whisper that gnaws at you until there is nothing left to give.
And then it forces you to open your eyes.
You withdraw your hand and nestle it
beneath your body before it’s infected with the truth.
May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 2:11 AM UTC
Her kiss is the brush of silk against your lips.
The faintest taste,
The slightest touch.
It caresses your neck and shoulders,
Flushes your cheeks and raises a flutter of wings beneath your skin.
You float with your eyes closed,
Your breath forgotten at your throat,
and cling to the sensation knowing it can’t last.
And it doesn’t.
It slips away,
fading to an impossible hunger,
a whisper that gnaws at you until there is nothing left to give.
And then it forces you to open your eyes.
You withdraw your hand and nestle it
beneath your body before it’s infected with the truth.
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