I do not want to breathe.
Instead,
bury me between your legs,
filling my mouth with
muffled sound
and all the fertile loam of your desire.
Drown me in the taste of sex,
pouring yourself out over me
like hot spilled wine,
and holding tight my breath
beneath your drenching cries.
Let me ache inside your time,
untouched
and smothered at the edge of light,
until your fingers
have dug long furrows in the headboard
and every tremor has become
a ripple through your skin.
Then,
when all your cells have screamed and you have
fed me to your heart,
let me have my breathe again.
I will want it then.
