two
three
four
five,
minutes under me, you stare, I compress.

All of your sex, engulfed by the in-arbitrary wish of keeping you inside,
the inevitable mistake of exposing my wish
the art of engaging in what we secretly have craved for so long

mb2017

Seeking the approving tremble of your body, the feel of your hands landing on my arms, hands up on my face, hold of my chin and make me stare at you
the real you
the overwhelming eyes that scream at you will not divert

we spent hours talking before. all my eyes seek is your voice. make you talk again.