Summer Skin

my skin still warm from the sun
laid bared, but the sheets are cool
and I can smell freshly cut grass
on the breeze, the hum of the mower
across the street almost a melody.
your fingers almost reverent,
tickle down, tracing a path. I wonder
why your skin isn’t as warm as mine
but then I don’t wonder anything
it’s all want.

on my stomach now, body exposed
you kiss the small of my back, your
tongue along my spine, your mouth
suckling at the back of my knee,
your teeth nipping the tendon of my ankle
I can’t do anything except feel, except
wait for the next place, the next pleasure point.
I jerk away, pull toward you, hope that I can bring
you into my skin, take you with me, make you
a part of me so I can always always feel this.

finally I beg, as I always do, a faint sound of please
I try to hold back from pleading, hoping one day
you will want me first, will take before I offer,
but you must be stronger, some kind of sexual
saint, and the word escaped even before I realize.
and then, you are on me, in me, above me, the feeling
is immense and immeasurable, the way you fit inside
hold still to hold the world off, and I want nothing
in that moment but connection, that connection
that only comes when you stretch me wide
and we reach as far as we can together.
again, always, please.