Always Wanting More

All sorts of arms in tangles,
so much bare skin,
little split nail scratches,
the afterthought of eyes,
all this blue and green,
peeking from between
soft, sweet, hair
in golden brown, dark brunette,
and black mixed, at times

miss a beat now and then,
bring us all back into one Thing
when shoulders press,
legs in layers,
fingers reach for me,
for him and his shadow,
and who knows which is which, again.

Let all the lips
open and glisten,
and tongues carefully come together
mix up all the saliva
and streak across my back,
while one is back and one is forth,
rumbling softly, moaning quietly,
until a pitched scream
in unison leaves me complete
for just that small interval.

And later, eyes open,
dream again of the same
in the evening's rusty twilight,
begging for reality to replace
the sweating, needing release
that never comes.