Pinned

We didn’t  
make  
it home
we  
rarely do
and  
he’s always
chiseled
refined
flaunting  
his sacred
masculinity  
whilst  
wearing me
as his second  
skin
luring me  
effortlessly
and  
i can’t resist
his
spontaneous
&
adventurous
spirit
more so  
when
he’s dressed
to kill
as I glimpse
the refined man
that
hides
his playfulness
reserved  
for my eyes  
only  
whilst  
he makes me
tremble
violently
in his tempered
deviance
until I’m stripped  
bare
exposed  
to the icy  
cold  
air
as he pulls
me
closer  
to the
edge
and  
his kisses
render me
hopeless  
and  
sometimes
I cut & run  
in protest
as he  
chases  
me
until
we’re both
breathless
surrendering  
the moment
embracing
him
where  
I found him
exposed & raw
vulnerable  
and
flawed
with  
his  
rock hard
cock
and
his explicit
needs & wants
tucked  
in his  
back pocket
etched  
upon my
heart
and  
he’s free  
to roam
my untamed  
wilderness
unrestrictedly
in his  
wave of desire
to  
conquer me
&
pin me  
down
like a pressed
flower
in an old  
album
preserved
until  
next time.