your skin

You should come over, I think, tonight.

Yeah, today? Maybe?

My fingers want to whisper secrets that your body needs to hear.

Needs.

You don’t even know.

Still.

Familiarity breeds exempt, from small talk before or after. We know anything said between us…

But.

Heartsick of all the talking.

It’s show, not tell, time.

My tongue has other ideas for ways to spend its hours. It’s been staying home for too long.

It wants to travel.

It has its passport and the best of bad intentions.

You just have to let the one who builds you up hold you down.

On this bed.

Sometimes the longest journeys only have four legs.

If you do it right.

I will.

I will.

Everything reminds me of your skin.

And how.

My flesh only ever wakes up when it’s pressed against you.

We should.

Do that.

We should.

Do more.

More.

I want.

Let’s explore.

Eyes shut. Hearts wide open.

Not all hands that wander are lost.

There are places.

My God.

There are places.

I want to see.

Pulling your hair, and us, back to where we ought to be.

Again.

Again.

Harder.

Again.

I want you.

Do I tell you that too much?

I assure you, it’s but a goddamn sampling of the times I think it.

You’ve staged a hostile takeover of my dreams. I’m not putting up much of a fight.

Except for when you want me to.

You like that.

Sometimes.

Every day.

It’s

Just

My bedroom echos with memories we haven’t made yet.

Yet.

Your eyes ignite things only your mouth can put out.

It’s just–

Fuck it.

Please.

Come over.

Right now.

 

 

 

 

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photo credit: Sebastiano Pitruzzello (aka gorillaradio) via photopin cc

One thought on “your skin

  1. “My bedroom echos with memories we haven’t made yet.”

    That’s one of the most beautiful sentences I’ve ever read. Thank you.

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