On Hands and Knees

Raked nails leave behind red trails on a naked back
while lips soothe the torn skin left in wake,
and the trembling mixture of hitched breathing and screams
echoes in the quiet bustle of the late morning.
Questing tongues and fingers relay the love
unable to be spoken when eyes roll into back of heads
and experimentations are met with anxious hips
and pleading legs that fall open in thinly concealed need.

Anticipation mixing with the salt of skin as beads of sweat
mix with tears and passion, and a smile
when bodies sink into each other,
blue eyes fighting to meet sated grey
as the violence of the last few hours is forgiven
with gentle kisses and whispered aspirations for the future
that couldn’t exist in the present moment.
Wet fingers trailing rapidly cooling skin, spelling out
needs that refuse to be given in fear of putting out flames
that had never been known to exist,
a teasing of breast and the skin of a hip
before the darkness overtakes the noon day.

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