Body Walking

Fingertips
ghost-gliding the bumpy mile of your spine.
Body-walking
slipping down the sweat-slick arch,
into the untouched valley between your quaking hills.

You promised
anything, anywhere, everything.
You said
Just take.
So I am
taking all, taking you.

Don't hold your breath,
I have only begun.
Going to explore
till every inch of you knows my name.
Going to body-walk
until the only way you can speak is with trembles and gasps.

"No" is not an option,
"Not there", unspeakable.
Tie you down if I must.
(You did say, just take.)
But look at me!
I'll just hold you with my silken smile.

Mapping in my memory,
charting every moan
of what is mine.
Maybe only for a moment –
but I plan to leave my imprint,
stake my claim –
leave a dragon's breath burn with my whisper touch.

Fingertips aren't the only travelers,
I have lips and teeth and tongue
eager to explore you too.
Going to body-walk
until you almost break,
then take you inside where it's safe.