The Hunger Grows

A slight touch on my lips,
dry but soft and warm  
as we seek our rhythm,  
I grow too eager    
and start fumbling.  
He slows me,  
leading the way.    
My mouth melts with his  
as I feed on the    
craving kiss that I need.  
The hunger grows  
and we sink deeper.  
God, the fire.  
I start spinning  
round and round,  
faster and faster,  
breaking into pieces  
until I disintegrate.