I am like a net that collects your voice. Absorbing the word as I sit beside you.
With fixed eyes
I will not change the channel
I will sit on the couch and keep listening

Although ugly,
Something beautiful happens.
The air suddenly gets thick.
Your hand ***** up and flies
up to your mouth.
Lungs ache, just as we do.
They cling to breath as if
It's the last thing they have.
I cough, and my whole body heaves.
Just like you when I am behind you
My eyes tighten, and after a moment,
It's over.

A wet kiss turned inside out,
Bottled up and forced out.
An act of surrender,
Forced out in urgency.
A noise that signals sickness,
But at the same time
Searches for a fresh breath.
At times, a cough can be sickening,
Sometimes nasty.
But when everything rattles loose,
And that ache is gone.
Sometimes,
That's the best kind of love

Being intimate

with people means having to --


share in their secrets.

I watch,
And I pull different pieces
Of her out the bowl.
Somewhat tangled and a bit messy.
I twist her all up even more,
And put her in my mouth.
The steam rising fresh from her.
My mouth catches her,
All of her.
Hot, slightly salty.
I love the way she makes me feel.
Eventually, her ways will become mine.
She isn't just some mess in a bowl.
And although I am hungry,
The pieces of her that I drag to my mouth. Are moderate.
I've never tasted anything like this
Before.
She isn't just a quick bite
Of temporary need.
My tongue, my gut,
My soul loves this tangled goodness.
She is my safe space

I don't want to miss
How good your skin feels
In the dark,
When no one else is around
Except our breath.
And we can breathe.

Opinions are just that.
But at the same time, I know,
I don't want to miss out.

I know how bad it feels to show up
Late, and "goodbye" is the last thing
You want to hear.
I don't want to miss out on the
Dark parts of you,
The parts of you that fit
Between the empty space of my
Fingers.
No matter how dark,
There's always a place for you.
It doesn't replace how soft you
Actually are.
It's not for the world to see
They can see whatever they want to.
When it comes to you,
I am not the world.
And I don't want to miss out

Down the stairs, to the left. Creeeak... Step... Step...
His door closed, I creep up... Click!... Creeak... Unlocked;

Closed door, lights dim, dark red with lust;
Hours late, he plays me such as he does his violin.
Bodies tight, musk, and my perfume.
Start off slow, savor the taste, his mouth on mine, non to waste.

Sweat and kisses, bites my neck; Slides in, and plays his deck.