The touch isn’t yours
But it should be
This woman isn’t yours
But she could be

The lands of untamed beauty so close to my fair city, they burn, engulfed in soaring flames, savagely reduced to ash and dust and smoke that finds its way here to me, that suffocates the ether, that morphs the sun and transforms its golden rays into streaks of the cruellest platinum.

Bathed in this blistering heat, in this false and unforgiving luminosity, I ache for the loss; my heart shatters at the devastation. And yet, I wait now, bare and exposed and alone, my skin gleaming with the sheen, shivering in fevered want, needing, hungry for the ruin of our own unique blaze, the fire my body refuses to forget and erase, the sensual softness of your touch and the sweet violence of your flesh as you open and take and possess me, as you consume my very soul, as you kiss these lips, giving life, taking breath, as you slide yourself deep inside me, my cunt clutching and flooding, fingers and nails scratching and drawing the blood that thunders through your veins, your hips thrusting the force of man into my feminine fragility, the thick hard cock that knows me and perfects me, fucks me and devours me, marks me and fills me until I come, until I break, until I cry out like an anguished animal on the brink of defeat.

Somehow, someway.

Through oceans and lands and the sky up above, through the silence and the stillness, through the clamour and the bustle and the crowd pressed in tight, they found me.

Somehow, someway.

Through the days and the months and the years, through lost and lonely nights, through the dreaming on empty mornings, through my wanton lusts and sensual yearnings, through this desire’s threat to tear my supple flesh to easy shreds, they knew me.

Somehow, someway.

Through the verse, through the prose, in every line and word and syllable, in each breath and sigh, whisper and growl, you touched and caressed my mind, glimpsed then memorised this body, inflaming the longings I could scarcely admit, etching into my skin the passions that coursed through your veins, igniting the feminine curves that even now hunger for your strength and possession, to have you plunge into these clutching velvet depths, to have you wild at heart and free and abandoned, to have you mark yourself in the glistening fire dripping onto the softness between my legs, scorching a path of need into the purity stretched taut on the bed.

Somehow, someway.

Through the beginning and the ending, through the space of the in-between, the words came for me, you came to me, bringing this woman time and again to her knees, your kiss the sweetest recognition, your hands proof of pleasure without inhibition, your hardness given, your thickness taken, the pearl nestled in your cockhead devoured, your mouth and its smile, the arms wound about me, bodies and souls for a brief beautiful moment bound together as one.

You live in the sigh, in this body’s rapturous arc, in the yearning buried deep in my bones, in the flutter, in the rush, in the softness of this skin and the dripping violence between my legs, in the gleam that prickles this flesh each time your voice comes flooding back, in the night before as I open this woman to these primal desires, as I drench and tangle and knot the sheets on my bed, in the morning after when I invariably hunger, when these lips long to know, long to know you, long to dress you in scarlet smudges, in teasing caresses, in long deep passionate kisses.

Baby… Come… Come back… Come back to me… There’s no need to deliberate… There’s little need to speak… Bathe yourself in this brand new day… Cleanse your nakedness in its radiance… Immerse yourself in the here and now… As you once again hold and know my body… As you once again fill your lungs with desire’s heady scent… As you once again surrender completely… As you once again allow yourself to disrobe your passions and shed your aching skin… As you once again crave the fusion of our hot sweet ragged breath… As you once again hunger for the woman before you and the merging of our souls and this flesh…

You feel it. You sense it. I know.

Even as it is laid out here for you, in shades of grey, in black and white, for your eyes to clearly gaze upon and see, the reflection threefold, her and her and her, her and them and me, I know you scarcely require this fractured image before us both to sense it, to crave it, to seek out and inspire the multiplicity within me, the varied facets of my lust, the desires that scream through this body and mind, that rise up through my skin at each and every given moment as I inhale your scent, as I breathe you in, as you move in close, as you press your nakedness in tight, as the first touch of your hands along the curve of my litheness betrays an urgency, a carnal ferocity I hunger right along with you through the night, as you pull aside the sodden lace between my thighs and plunge the hard ache of your cock inside me in one selfishly perfecting sinuous stroke, as my sweet cunt soaks you, takes you, envelops and milks you yearning for the fire of your seed, my grinding hips, my pouting clit, my wet wanton sex, the nails drawing blood, digging into flesh at odds with the sensuality of my moan, my mewl, the hands wound about your nape, the whispers uttered from these lips, my passionate and searching kiss.

You feel it. You sense it. You recognise and yearn for it. Lover, this much I know.

If I rise up, if I reach into the light, if I breach the boundary unravelling us, if I caress the margin on high, will you be waiting, will your hands take hold of mine, will you ease my supple form into the promise of the pure indigo sky, will you take me in your arms, enfold my nakedness in yours, will you ignite this desiring soul, this yearning flesh, this sensual woman for evermore?