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Something about the way he
touches me on the inside.
No penetration,
strictly the elation of the thought of
his being overwhelms me
to the point of orgasmic jubilation.
Mmmmmm
I crave this temptation.
Takes me to the stars
just being held in his arms.
has me touching forever
while holding onto now.
Pleases me before leaving me
without knowing how he takes me
just where I need to be.
My mind is his canvas and
his art leaves me breathless as he
paints the most stimulating
array of emotions
with every whisper
of his voice.
I feel him so deeply
yet it's me who he dreams of
with eyes-wide-opened.
Sees my beauty in his own reflection
because that's where he keeps me.
Breathe's me;
not only wants but needs me.
Bleeds when I hurt because no pain
he wants to cause me...again.
Loved him as a boy before
WE understood the role of a man.
Years astray.
Years of strain.
Never acknowledged my suffocating
by his hands.
Couldn't breathe without him;
never wanted to be without him.
Wants to right his wrongs by
showering me with tears
of a grown man's apologies.
So much strength in that.
There's no shame in that.
Let me go yet
kept me close
while searching to find
a way to say he's sorry
and he loves me.
No longer each other's.
So gone distant lovers;
yet, he is my infinite
and I am his...still.
I AM His...STILL.
