It might 3am
I want you
Whoever you are
Devouring
My crazed desire
Carnal
Any strong hands
Around my neck
Craving
A fight
for air
I no longer deserve
I romanticise
The sharp gasp
at the sweet
sting of skin
in once hidden places
Almost silent
At the delicious pulling
of come to bed hair
Longing
For that satisfying
Pulse weakening
oxygen starved
Bliss.
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