I had a dream.
And you were there bare as ever.
Exactly as I cherish you.
And I do, very much, cherish you.
Stark, hardened, bewildering in your physicality.
So handsome that it often intimidates me.
No one intimidates me.
But you do.
So much so that my strategy has changed.
You have single-handedly caused me to evolve.
You subdue my innate sense of superiority.
You dilute my tendency toward psychological warfare.
You intoxicate me with greed.
For flesh. For words. For lips. For sex.
I submit myself willingly in your presence.
I offer my body as tribute.
Raise me like a flag in triumph.
Our mouths drifted together hungrily.
Always so impatient, you and I.
Even in dreams.
Starving for warmth. For moisture. For games. For ache.
A language only we speak.
When pressed into furniture. Shower doors. Hardwood floors. Edwardian beds.
Our’s is an immutable lust.
As requite as it is incendiary.
As requisite as it is kismet.
I recall gasping quietly between suckling kisses.
Murmuring. Lulling. Whimpering. Purring.
That I was unworthy of the man slipping me his tongue.
But oh, how much I wanted him…
Your body articulated it’s desires to me.
In sounds. In angles. In tensions. In hands.
Dragging fingers through my hair.
Cupping, tugging curves like sacred, porcelain objects.
Frantic in the unfastening of buttons and belts.
So many obstacles.
I swallowed the breath that fell from your mouth.
I was a phoenix risen in your quickening pleasure.
My hands dove like egrets.
a. duncan, 2020