Presence

She doesn't have to see him to sense his presence.

Fragile beginnings, only a thought quickly flickering by,
but so obvious she’s afraid it will show, a tense sensation creeping in.

Would it be a blessing or sin?

Unembellished, primitive yearning
warmth of his skin.
just a careless light touch,
sends a jolt through her chest,
makes her head spin.
She’s in arrest, she has to be obsessed!

It cripples her.

Blurs her thinking and paralyzes her speech driving her to a personal breach.

The need to feel him has become so essential
and yet it has left her terrified for the consequential.

Contemplations so commanding they have to be illicit,
longing something, anything
nothing explicit.

Her heart is throbbing for anticipation and fear.
Her eyes, for sure, will give up her defer.
Regardless to her resistance, not asking but demanding;
her body eagerly betrays her.

His scent in the air
it shamelessly still begs.

Under his eyes, she daringly enjoys…
the growing wetness in between her legs.
Almost painfully, she senses his presence.