Doomed

His kisses walk
down my throat,

fingers fumble
through my hair.

His face,
rough with stubble,
scratches my naked skin,

and I can’t breathe,
can’t think.

It’s him,
dark eyes,
bowtie mouth,
hands migrating across my body.

It’s him against
my tongue,
my hands,

and I need him
closer,
closer,
closer
or

I might fall
but I know I am already
plummeting
towards the bottom of his eyes
each time he looks at me.

And when he finally says my name,
the syllables becoming
rough,
raw instead of round,
I know,
right here,

I’m doomed.

~Patience

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3 thoughts on “Doomed

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