Caress.

I dreamt you in last night, sleeping outside my door. I could smell your scent, hear your accent, feel your eyes, kiss your breath. I saw the light caress your body as you strolled by so casually, so comfortable among your things. I pushed through and was steadily riding through your imagination.

you pierce my reality and you drag me down and out holding my hand and make me lie beside you. i hold you tight but you don't. i lay a kiss near your lower lip but you don't turn away. i want to look at you but you shut your eyes. i want to whisper into your ear but you cover your ears. i close my eyes now.

it is the sweet smell that you emit from your exterior. the smell of your exasperation when you strain under pressure from your predominant desires. it the smell of the pain you feel when engulfed in self question of your perceived morals that seem to blur during our deluge of thoughts. only i can see it for you are saturating my mind with every subtle movement of the pools of midnight that are your eyes.

it is the touch of your flowing hair when it grazes my eyes and forces them to close in preparation for your hands that caress me. dainty fingers that follow the bruises down to my chest that my heart speeds up its rhythm and you listen to it, intently. the touch of the tip of your nose at my neck and the soft caressing of your eyelashes when you gaze upon my slight smile that i smile when i know you are looking at me.

now that you are soothed and reassured, you sing for me. the gentle and soft voice of tiny moments when fingers entwine. the song we have the last waltz as two lonely people together.

i submit.

do as you wish with me.