For the second time.
I wanted to do it for third,
And the fourth
And the fifth.
He kissed me for the sixth time,
And the seventh.
We paused at the eighth,
or maybe it was the ninth.
I had lost count by then
We were too invested in the night
By the tenth kiss
frantically searched for a place
to call home.
Eleventh Twelfth and Thirteenth kiss merged in to one
My hands had fallen on to his heaving chest
just enough to feel his heart thud and hammer against his rib cage
His hands sought refuge on my thighs
that had started to feel like a fire-place;
warm and comforting.
We stopped before the twentieth kiss
Aware of our pounding hearts and the scars on his neck
Aware of the beginnings of a sun rise through the curtains
Aware of reality outside the door.
Vodka and gin soaked tongues
Strong hands grasping on to hips
Hearts pounding against the rib cage
not mine though.
Mine had stopped
I didn’t feel it beating at all
Maybe it had drowned
from the drinks that night
But it definitely wasn’t racing
I don’t remember the kiss much
except that your lips were soft
and you weren’t aggressive or
trying to get to places
I wouldn’t have let you.
Kiss me again
without the alcohol stained breaths
so I’ll know for sure
That maybe you’re worth another kiss
or that this isn’t worth it.
and will never happen again
Kiss me again.
I like the way you taste on my lips. I like how the moment it does, shivers go through my spine and the hair at the back of my neck rises. I love how only you can do that to me. I like how fruity you taste sometimes. And the sting on my lips at your first taste is exciting and excruciating. It’s a dark desire that fills my thoughts and drives them over the edge. I like that you can be bought. I like that you have a strange yet wanted way of numbing my bones,of making my cheeks heat up and my lips cold. But most of all, I love that I can never have one fill of you. I’ll always want more of you.
Painted shadow Continue reading “Wine.”