Strange Bodies

 
You look at me as if we've known each other for years.
Your mouth, your tongue, your hands—they hunger to discover this strange body,
and I surrender.
Passion? It owns me.
My body writhes with pleasure.
Your hands drift slowly across my skin.


Now it's my turn.
I can't restrain them anymore.
They ache to touch you,
to map every corner of you.
My mind scatters.
We exist alone, wrapped in our wanting.


The feeling deepens.
I let go.
Our hands dissolve into each other's unfamiliar flesh.
The force of your kiss,
the force of your hands—
what do they tell me?


Like blood rushing through my veins,
your hands race across my body.
I want this feeling never to end,
but it won't.
We are moving toward something luminous—
a journey made of fantasy and hunger,
returning to our restless, fevered bodies.