Push

The drunk version of you adores me.
The drunk version of you can't contain their thoughts.
The drunk version of me just gives and takes.
The drunk version of me acts without thought.

The sober version of you worries what they think.
The sober version of you avoids too much talk.
The sober version of me is nervous self concious.
The sober version of me feels in secrect.

Is there a way to be drunkingly sober all the time, so I could take you as if you were mine.
And you would say all the right lines.
And I would be brave and cruel in a way you like.
And you would spit in my face, and my thighs become slick.
And you would push me down with forceful grip.
Drip.
Metallic taste on my lips.
Blood
Salt
Lust
Urgency

Arousal. Indecency. Intrusion.

I would keep you if I had the chance either way.