Don’t go, not yet…
Tell me this means something.
It doesn’t have to be true, not entirely.
Just enough to feel like it could be.
Speak to me in the language of bodies crashing against each other,
of roaming hands and greedy lips.
Let me know you.
Let me want you.
Let me bask in this delirium of possibility but a while longer…
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Ooo.
Love how this honest poem unfolds.
Beautiful.