The art of not fucking.

I love to sleep
                The sleep of love
                               With you.

Love makes us
Drowsy

Our smaller hands
        Smaller bodies

Night rushes
Into the arms of my lover
                 The back of her mind
                  The length of her spine

Rhythm of slight movements
Drunk on red wine

Love blooms
In sucking scars
Of each others bodies

Softening the harshness
Under the covers

Alternate longings
Half belongings

Exchanging
The art of fucking
For
The art of
Sensual longing.

What next?

I will

Grab your body
Tightly in my hold.

Switch the lights on
Turn this waiting into gold.

Push you to the wall
Then
Push you to the floor

Fuck you
Then
Fuck you some more.

You will

Lean on the wall
Fall on the floor

The cold marble
In contact with your skin
The skin in rhymes
Fades and glows.

We will
Breathe heavy
Wrapped up
Shattered
Insecure

I heard
Angels like to
Be hurt

And demons are lovely
Creatures.

Chase the half doings
Fulfil the naked soul

The mechanism of desire
Will be over
Without a show.

What next?

Inaccessible thoughts.

I want to touch
The body your soul lives in

A cage so appealing
Lost,
In your eyes
I am healing.

Drops of wax
On your back

Movements
Of the neck and the hands

Consume me till I dissolve in you
Flames of fire

Nights so new.

I want to do so much
Lift your edges
Kiss your stomach

Watch you crumble
Beneath my skin
A universe is brightly dim.

Peel my sanity
Lick my aura
Drink my scars
Like herbal tea.

I want to be annihilated
Finish the very best of me

I want to die while you
Come alive in me.

But
My
Hearts
So heavy
And
My deaths
Too many

Stops me.

This rhyme alone
Knots
Me.