And, the day bleeds... into nightfall !

He and I
don’t
speak
the same
language

unless

we’re both
naked
and
vulnerable

breath to breath

whilst he’s
pulsating
deep
inside me
as I’m
pinned
underneath
him
forehead to forehead

and

we’re both
fucking insanely
adamant
that we love
one another
and
he has me
face down
arse up
waiting
to be
pierced
by his
love

and we
both
love to fuck
and
we both

don’t call

because
he’d rather
have a wild
love affair
with his
fears
or maybe
he’s cheating
on me
with his
own
fears
or
pride

and still

I wait
achingly
and
patiently
crawling
up his
walls
just waiting
for the
moment
he conquers
his underlying
fears

by reaching out

to enable
us
to inscribe
our love
notes
upon
one another’s
flesh
as we
whisper filth
to one
another
in those
twilight
hours

things

that aren’t
ever
repeated
or
shared
with others

save us

under
the ambience
of our
aeviternal
flickering
flame.