Mostly

Mostly, we fuck
And it’s all I need
And it’s everything I need.
It’s rough and he is heedless,
Using hands and teeth
Palm flat, struck hard against my face
Fingers holding my jaw or throat
Or tangled tightly in my hair
Teeth bruising the soft places.

It’s rough and he is heedless
Seeking resistance and strength,
Tears and pleas.
I am a force of will he likes to vanquish
A puppet of flesh to mark and hurt.

Sometimes, we fuck
And it’s rough and hard.
I am trapped in his gaze
That is intent with some goal he has not shared.

He must see something in my eyes.

He brings his body down
Folds his knees under
And settles between my open thighs.
Now we are belly to belly, chest to chest
His head is next to mine, our faces touching
His breath in my ear and mine in his.
His arms woven around my shoulders
Holding me tightly, so tightly
As my hands stroke his back, his head
And gently hold the nape of his neck.

Birds_from_the_Book_of_Kells_by_Laerad

We are flexed, tucked,
Gathered one into the other
Every point on our bodies is touching
And he is deep, deep in me.
I cannot divine where he starts
And I conclude.

We are a fantastic animal
In an illuminated manuscript
With no beginning and no end.

This feels like love
And I do not know what to do with it.

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~ by Blue Eyed Gypsy on July 10, 2017.