I meet the dawn tearing at the threads, the need to expose my wanton flesh to the low light too great, to the walls that have borne witness to our carnality, your marks lustrous on my skin, your seed and my lust the fire on the lips between these legs, our forbidden hungers screaming again through my veins.

A word. A breath. An intonation.

A similarity so slight most would barely rate it a thought or mention.

But for this woman, every hint, every likeness, every resemblance is a trigger, a spark, an enabler that leads me back to the voice unforgotten, to the accented utterance of my name by the man kneeling at my feet, his mouth pressed into the molten fire of my cunt, each ravenous flicker and devouring kiss driving my desire and body and the pleas falling from these lips to the edge, the brink, our precipice.

Baby, slide in deep and ease me
into the blushed morning.

I confess.
This is my kind of travel selfie.

When your gaze finds me, travels along my naked and yielding body, the flesh arched and aching and hungry only for you, what does it see?

What do you see?

Do you see a woman worthy of the lips that speak your true intentions?

A being in step with the intensity of your complex passion?

Do you glimpse in her the free spirit also in need of your arms and their embrace, the skin and heat that feel and taste just like home?

A body, a soul, a mind, a heart, a sweet and wanton cunt deserving of your sensual kiss, your ragged breath, the cock, the thrusts, the grip, the molten come that will mark her indelibly as yours?

I wonder if you’ll ever know the depth, the breadth, the force of my yearning for your touch at first light.

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.

Even as your hands rest on the triangle of light kissing the indentation at my waist, I wonder…

Would they hunger for the woman reflected, divided, yearning, out of reach?

Would they crave the riven being before you, the intensity, the duality, the sensual and the carnal, the appetites and their satiation, brought together as one by your passion and your touch?

On this cold and lonely morning,
only your touch can
save me.

My body aches for you, breaks
for you in untamed ecstasy
and trembling wonder.