In a world between
waking and sleeping
you came and lay
upon my back
In my ear
low groan moan
I know you want me
you writhe
grind
bite
lick the mark away
suck
tongue tracing patterns
your legs between mine
smooth over me
I smell your burn
I lick my lips
Massage my coiled shoulders
nails an occasional counterpoint
nipples harden
your breasts
propel them along my back
I moan
you marvel
glide your palms
across your breasts
wish they were my hands
lean close to my ear
and whisper
I know you want me
. . . now.
Fried Chicken & Philosophy 