Yesterday, 10:10 AM
After much deliberation, hopeful improvements.
I am eighteen and she is beautiful.
Aquatic breath soothing my sun washed skin.
She holds the eye in a way
that makes my cheeks sear.
Her song is hums
forcing me to hug my knees to my pulse.
Seated here
at the edge of her fingers.
Tapping and coaxing until my feet are wet.
I am eighteen and she is playful.
Winking light against her surface.
She can hear my panting
up my legs. I am excited to be afraid.
To dance in her. Breath catching
in my throat
when she pulls at my waist.
Love — me —
it was not a request.
I am eighteen and she is passionate.
Tugging at my body.
Our chests heaving together.
A gasp. Swept underneath. Only to burst,
from her, soaked in her.
Eyes to the dying sun.
The horizon is on fire. My lungs draw it in.
Crackling heat inside my ribs.
I am eighteen and she embraces me.
Life has no weight.
Her world, a languid amber. Time unwound
and dizzying.
My world dissolved in her.
Her soft hands grip at my limbs. Deeper,
the pull. Her kiss
shattering.
Whirling, dancing of spheres. Thrashing in alien beauty.
My lungs emptying.
I am eighteen and she is ravenous.
Do I rise? Or, does she push me.
I know, that I will never know.
I crest; newborn and shaking.
Her world is not my world. I control nothing here.
I can only lie back on her bed, and just
rest on her palms.
She leads this dance.
I am eighteen and she is gentle.
Forgiving of my fumbling, excited movements.
Touching only as she wishes to be touched.
My saltwater joins hers on my cheek.
Her fingers press me away
when she is finished with me.
When my muscles burn with my skin.
Returning me to the beach
lying under the dark sky.
Hair sticking to my face. Palms
sinking into the sand. Merely watching.
Breathing.
I am eighteen and she is forever.
I am eighteen and she is beautiful.
Aquatic breath soothing my sun washed skin.
She holds the eye in a way
that makes my cheeks sear.
Her song is hums
forcing me to hug my knees to my pulse.
Seated here
at the edge of her fingers.
Tapping and coaxing until my feet are wet.
I am eighteen and she is playful.
Winking light against her surface.
She can hear my panting
up my legs. I am excited to be afraid.
To dance in her. Breath catching
in my throat
when she pulls at my waist.
Love — me —
it was not a request.
I am eighteen and she is passionate.
Tugging at my body.
Our chests heaving together.
A gasp. Swept underneath. Only to burst,
from her, soaked in her.
Eyes to the dying sun.
The horizon is on fire. My lungs draw it in.
Crackling heat inside my ribs.
I am eighteen and she embraces me.
Life has no weight.
Her world, a languid amber. Time unwound
and dizzying.
My world dissolved in her.
Her soft hands grip at my limbs. Deeper,
the pull. Her kiss
shattering.
Whirling, dancing of spheres. Thrashing in alien beauty.
My lungs emptying.
I am eighteen and she is ravenous.
Do I rise? Or, does she push me.
I know, that I will never know.
I crest; newborn and shaking.
Her world is not my world. I control nothing here.
I can only lie back on her bed, and just
rest on her palms.
She leads this dance.
I am eighteen and she is gentle.
Forgiving of my fumbling, excited movements.
Touching only as she wishes to be touched.
My saltwater joins hers on my cheek.
Her fingers press me away
when she is finished with me.
When my muscles burn with my skin.
Returning me to the beach
lying under the dark sky.
Hair sticking to my face. Palms
sinking into the sand. Merely watching.
Breathing.
I am eighteen and she is forever.