deepundergroundpoetry.com
Desire untouched
The atmosphere... For the expected surprise.
The planning,
The longing,
It's a desperation,
Of sorts.
It's the contemplation of human fragility.
Gasping
Gasping for air in a room with windows open
Gasping for air, silently, simply for being in the same room with the forbidden.
Hands barely touching, tingling every spot that meets the warmth of another skin.
Building up a tingling on secret places that scream!... quietly, with desire.
The tingling becomes throbbing, between the tights tying up and suppressing the feeling until it turns into fire, a fire that consumes the insides and suffocates the heart with a smoke that finds its way up the throat and comes out the mouth in a barely audible...moan...
The eyes meet
The unspoken knowledge of it all is tangible.
It's almost pain.
It's almost unbearable.
A fate we all surrender.
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