As I recall from this viewed years later, the journey I took
from cold kitchen to lukewarm couch to the overheated moments in her bd, from
the clatter of utensils and the open smoker’s window to the comfort of cushions
and my arm around her shoulders, the shutter of the kiss and the transition to
nakedness, the dark of night through the windows of each room like eyes
watching over our transition.
As I recall, the softness of her lips, thick as honey,
nearly as sweet, rich with the promise of what the next transition would bring,
my palms curled around the protrusions of her breasts until the tips hardened
and compelling me to sip.
As I recall, I could not stop, a man dying of thirst in the
midst of an oasis, sucking in too much for too long until too drunk on it to
know better, consuming while being consumed, moving from room to room, couch to
be, in and out, again and again, as I recall.
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