poetscantsleep:

“Don’t be gentle,” you begged,
“Use your palms. Be rough.”
I thought, “I can’t.
You’re made of glass
And you’ll break
Under my fingertips.”

–

I bit into your flesh
And sucked purple blossoms
Along the canvas of your back
It reminded me of that steam-filled room
When I growled possessively
Into the crook of your neck
I had only touched
I should’ve tasted

–

You pulled me into your breast
Cutting off my air supply
And I realized it was my favorite way
You ever rendered me breathless
Your enthusiastic groan
Echoed around your torso
Like a roar in a cave

–

My arms shook like breaking glass
And your arms held strong
Like a marble statue
I only touched

Fuck, I should’ve tasted.