Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

“La Petite Mort”

Slowly, it built, then all at once. Until my back was arching off the bed, head thrown back, neck straining, wrist coming to my mouth to muffle the sounds.

As a deep pink flush worked its way down my body from the tops of my cheeks, down my neck, over my chest and torso and beyond…

Until I was offering you everything and drawing you closer with every move, every caress of my ever eager hands and mouth.

Every gasping breath, moan, and whimper of longing, leading to this one moment of almost painful bliss.

The color fading from my vision, sounds fading away as if I’m deaf, yet I can see, hear and feel it all so exquisitely.

I feel as if I’m dying but also that I am reborn. Alive, in the way that makes me want to drag my mouth over your skin in sweet thanks…kill me again won’t you lover? From now until our end.

Author:

Creative writer and amateur photographer.

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