Sometimes, I’m such a wanton Kitten.
I really ought to be punished…

Once the night blankets the city, my thoughts turn to you.

My body turns to you.

Its coordinates set to yearn for your touch. Its curves reaching through these foreign streets and spaces for your north, your heat, your need.

On the high of
Our desire
We float

(noun)
1. The inflection: in his voice just before he presses his lips to my sultry sighs and wet hunger.

(verb)
2. The reveal: of my wanton need once his hard flesh guides me to the carnal darkness in the light.

I wait for you, yearning
to be bent to your
erotic will.

Let’s take a bite, let’s leave our mark
on the craving flesh of this city, on every inch
of the glass in this room floating high over the Hudson.