Thunderstorms with the door closed

Wrestling
Shifting
Even with the brutish
Way that my fingers
Sink into your hips
I fuck you with
A sense of awe

The tender curves
Bear a sweetness
That makes me
Want to crush you
Like hot heavy fruit
I want to smell
You on my skin

For hours after
Cupping my fingers to
My nose and mouth
So you’re
All I breathe
I want to be matted
With you

I know you
And as you try to
Break yourself
Against me
Your eyes shining
And a hidden smile
Feeds the fire

I hold you firm
Because I know
That you’ve held
In this storm
And I am raising
My face as you
Soak me
With
Your
Rain

Advertisement

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s