Be

Tantric verbosity tangling two never should be’s
Effortlessly colliding never could be’s
Softly dying ever would be’s
Busy bees who never knew they shouldn’t
Firefight foreplay with the devils dirty dice
Rolling white hot
Heat
Through the easy discomfort of too tight jeans
Left as testament of what never would be on the bedroom floor
No lock we wanted more
Attention
To ease the tension in the high voltage sensations between our lips Spilling words of dissent
The scent of skin that never should be
Bared, lingers softly
Coloring the room with the hazy vision of your lips pressed
So close to mine
Never
Ever committing the sin of the skin we both craved
Mentally
Picturing ourselves
Tangling
Marionette string promises
Fluttering our hearts in sick selfish syncopated time
Stolen In kisses deeper than consciousness
Of the potential wildfire that kept these busy bees ever on the edge of being
One

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