He Did Not Rise To The Challenge

He did not rise to the challenge,
Or even acknowledge it’s existence.

If he had, would there have been kisses?
Kisses that would no doubt lead to licks and nibbles. . .

Or would he grab the back of my neck with a handful of hair,
While the other explores unknown territory under my shirt?

Would we get lost in each other as we become the embodiment of true nature?
Would our clothes follow suit falling off as they cease to exist?

I imagine the heat of his touch creating neon flares within my sight temporarily blinding me.
Magnifying my senses and making them soar, constructing a hurricane of uncontrollable pleasure.
Gifting me with overwhelmingly unsolvable waves that pounded into me, clinging to my everything;
Controlling my every movement, reaction, and air, making it harder to breathe.

Is that what would have happened?

I cannot say.

He never rose to the challenge that we both know was ringing clearly in my eyes.