Her neck

He adored her neck.

Her skin,

pale and perfect,

had the bloom of a rose

in winter.

Her neck,

with its pale elegance,

he knew,

if it were possible,

would be a place of pilgrimage,

a holy site;

one that he would readily worship at

using all of his senses.

Running his nose along to catch her scent,

it’s heady fragrance making him dizzy

with desire,

lifting her hair and using his mouth

to leave kisses along its length,

feeling her wildly beating pulse

beneath his lips.

His teeth would graze her skin,

igniting nerve endings,

causing a bolt of desire to shoot through her,

and finally, his tongue would taste her,

her unique flavor greeting his mouth

in celebration.

:

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Lawless

There is a feeling of lawlessness within her.

Tinder awaiting the strike of the match.

A riot of anticipation that begins with him.

Each day cuts her with sharp shivers along every inch of skin.

She is alert and aroused

every blink of her eyes refreshes the picture of him

every breath brings the taste

the scent of him

to her

ravaging her senses.

Images of them become a continuous loop of erotic film 

within her mind

as she replays

incessantly

hundreds of scenarios

each one causing her

to close her eyes

to still her breath

to control the rebelliousness of her body

as it becomes traitor to modesty

as the wanton within

begins to dance.

:

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Ripe

She is ripe,

for his hands

for his mouth.

She is the desirable fruit

he hungers for,

her scent intoxicating him

beckoning forth his touch.

Her essence is nectar to his mouth

and one that he will savor every bite of,

his senses alive to her taste

as it lays succulent upon his tongue

subduing the ravenous beast

within.

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Piercing me

My desire 

is as sharp as glass shards

piercing me

with longing.

With every jagged breath

I am cut anew.

:

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 Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced.

Unmet fire

With every wet kiss

and every shared breath

pull me deeper into you,

until you become

the oxygen for my lungs,

the blood in my veins,

and the heat to my skin.

My unmet fire

unfettered

in your hands

becomes a blazing need

liberated.

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Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced.

With every breath

It starts slow.

A tentative touch

that blooms with colour

across your skin.

Like a meadow in summer.

A meandering through your thoughts

that gradually becomes a steady hum

as he takes up residence.

A delicious jolt whenever you come upon him

finding him coursing through your veins

feeling him pulse beneath your skin.

Not simply desire

or respect

nor even tender affection and regard,

but an awakening

to him

and to yourself.

With every breath.

:

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Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced

Marks

Marks left upon your skin

from a lover,

a tattoo of his thirst.

Not, as you were once led to believe 

a hallmark of disrespect

but rather a measure of his ardor.

Your thoughts form different conclusions now,

you listen to that long silent voice within

and feel the quickening of your pulse

as you think about his leavings,

the brands of his belonging.

You touch them when you are apart, 

your finger tracing the outlines,

pressing down upon them, 

remembering the passion,

the violence of desire.

You revisit the moment

and feel that ache anew

your thighs damp in anticipation

of more

of bite and bruise

and you recall how you were a meal made

and devoured

fully.

:

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Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced