Breathe, Eyes. Memory. (2015) – Marcia Michael
Just the image of your hands alone drives me to the edge and I want your fingers to meet me there. Dive in. Feel deeply around. Maybe even whisper how excited i am to be with you, again. I have missed your touch. And your skin. The beautiful hue of a golden night sky lay so tightly against you. Your skin. I want our bodies to be pressed against each other. I woke up feeling feverish this morning at the thought of you tearing off my clothes and feeding your insatiable appetite.
My lover, you are just…. I can’t get enough.