Skin

The touch was perfect. 

Perfectly tingling senses; entwined.

Perfectly gone and not enough.

A seething moment

Where you wrapped your fingers in mine.

Rippling the roots of my hair.

Electric.

The froth of this caffeinated time.

Pulsing are chemicals.

Convulsing is the body.

Filled full, judging by my symptoms,

I am ripe as our breakfast poultry.

Taunt are layers peeling back,

Back and forth and back,

Peeling is a morning poverty.

Deprived for so long...

So soothing is this night's approaching severity. 

How tempting is my awoken wound?

This... This is the heart I wear on my sleeve. 

Woken from a cloud

I stand dribbling over you

Dream after dream.

Vanishing now is your simple touch.

So simple. 

Blush - rosy red cheeks- a child's lust. 

Cold is the release of this pleasure.

We share it in the subconscious 

Perhaps as a prosperous measure. 

Follow me into this lapsing.

Here, the mind quivers.

Shared is our gasping intake.

Eye to eye.

Allowing me to catch the light snaking down your face. 

Show me how real we are to be here.

So long have I known you

And the sensitivity of this mind state.

~ B