You want my hands,
wrapped around your delicate little throat,
your back hitting the wall,
rhythmically,
rhythmically,
like freight train cylinders
without a stop in sight.
I want to make love to you.
I want to leave kisses,
on your collar bones and shoulders,
where I know the weight was too much for you,
coating your wrists
where the scars once burned.
I want my lips to mend the doorways
you tried to leave this life through.
You want to make love to me.
You want to leave that tingling sensation
under my skin as your fingers drag across it
as if your touch were the vessels of a million
little lightning bugs
that illuminated my insides
like the light you brought into my life.
I want to leave bruises and bites marks
where you can’t try and conceal,
so the men on the street can look and see
that there was an animal that took you moments ago.
I want you to look in the mirror long after I’ve left,
as your eyes dart over the raw skin, remembering,
and feel your breath catch,
you breath get shallow,
and your thighs moisten all over again.
You can speak a thousand words into my mouth when
our tongues touch and dance a hot
and wonderfully awkward dance,
I can throw myself between your thighs
quick and rough and throbbing
and get completely lost in you
just like I’ve always wanted
you can claw your name into my back
so even when we haven’t talked in weeks
I can touch myself and feel the tougher skin
you left me with
I can kiss your chest and your stomach and your hips
and let my lips and tongue explore
every fold and every petal
breathing my hot breath into you
until you completely and totally burst
quivering and shaking on the cheap mattress we call our own.
We can have both
Because we have each other.
turnnoffyourmind
romaincrisis
baratheonpilled
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