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Sickly Sweet purple darkness.

Sickly Sweet purple darkness.

I saw you standing at the foot of the bed

The moonlight kissing every hard angle every rise and fall of your chest

Your lean long walk

Your breath rising hard and slow

The ending of a song rising slowly in sync with my eyes following the light drifting touching caressing your skin

The purple darkness of the night .. the white smoke from the end of the cigarette on your moist hard lips.. unyielding quick to touch

Hour hands running from your temple to your strong shoulders

The glistening beads of sweat on your skin

The orange light burning from the end of the web of smoke

Your breathe taking it in as you look at me and pulling away to look away into the rich velvety sky

The cold drift the makes your taut soft skin rise with tiny little bumps .. I could count every one of them

The spirals of your hair .. the nakedness of you makes me take in more than I can take anymore..

You look back at me .. with those surprising brown eyes..

Your tongue that tastes of me trying to lick at your parched lips

The disconnect of you and me.

Tangible sex in the air

The room warm . the sheets warmer I lay back and turn to the white ceiling I seem to find maps of my broken memories

Your fingertips on my toes that were only moments ago curled in pleasure .

Not seeing you I see you even clearer.

My legs shiver in recollection of your tongue , your fingers , your chest

The throb within ,in no hurry to go away

Music and fantasy in the air

A guilty pleasure of love making while the world is asleep

the moon peeking out from the clouds to check on us

the light in the room makes me look harder at your taut curve and dip as you turn to drink water

the cliché of driping water on bare skin makes more sense than it ever did before.

Sense , thought and delusion melting into sickly sweetness like the last few pulls from a joint

Overcome , overwhelmed we breathe in the stillness and ethereal concoction of our souls unable to differentiate even with a rooms distance from each other.

The spell of the witching hour broken with your swift reach to the bed ,into between me.

this is right ........ this fits.

Photo by Emiliano Vittoriosi on Unsplash

Playing the game like a player.

Playing the game like a player.

Quiet Cascade

Quiet Cascade