Thursday 30 April 2015

Surrender

Fingertips tickle against stubble.
Lips covet lips.
A firm tug at the waist,
A hand rests on the hips.

As the distance is consumed by a hunger,
A sense of deprivation lingers
In the air, static,
Bound to us.

Reluctantly you pull away
And I try to find my balance.
Your lips are being tugged at by a smile
That announces itself as a challenge.

Dare I move back and defeat
Admit, or dare I stay in the seat
And risk losing.
Or dare I even more to move forward and drink further from your lips.

Sure as always,
You leaned in a second time
To claim some unknown right.
You lick my lips, I let out a sigh,
And surrender.