To touch. To taste. To electrify.

If not for this, what should I want?

            Gentle hands, soft warm eyes.

            The smell of skin, a connecting bind.

            Two as one, breathing, clinging.

            Soft voice touching my ear,

            Only the sound of breathing—what I hear.

            Sensation exploding, scaling boundaries

            I long for skin to sooth my madness.

            Reaching climax, anticipation grows.

            Getting what I want, until I open my eyes.

            What I have is nothing, but what I have is mine.