Patience Isn’t Always a Virtue
Your sun dress is already above your head.
Down to your panties,
no bra to begin with.
For a moment, I think I can see the anticipation
steam off your skin.
Pulling you close,hoping to inhale it.
I wish you wore more though,
winter clothes from top to bottom.
So I could slowly peel away
each layer.
Hearts beating faster
with each article lost.
Somehow I’m naked.
Our lips are warriors
battling for territory
on the other’s body.
Playful pulls and pushes,
a game of tug of war that only ends in tie.
Our bodies knot together.
The gentle rise of your breast
against my hairy chest.
Your fingers strain
as they press hard into my back
Enough to leave little marks
We lay in bed tangled together,
as if movement
would break whatever spell we cast.
I hope skin has memory.
So I can trace it.
Come back to this always.
mind junk and word vomit 