Rough cat-like tongue
The sounds of nibbled flesh,
Damp kisses and the traced arousal
You pick the patches of my skin
And make them soak the passion up.
You fuck my soul
Inside and out
The same way that you eat your way towards me.
The fingers. Clenched.
Nails dig into my palm and cause my anger.
The wrists. Held tight.
I’m over-used and under-fucked
No words are said
Yet arching joints communicate with one another
I grab my vividness of ditched imagination
The lips are cursing and the brain just sends the impulse of the twitching soul
I shout out loud yet all you hear is dripping noise of leaking pleasure.
You scrunched the corners of my mind into a ball of sticky memories of you.
– Chatty Owl has left the building –