It is like a disease
This attraction
Murking, sneaky, a slow simmer
A hot sweaty rumble
A flirted eye
An innocent embrace
Held just a second too long
An uncomfortable giggle
A constrained averted eye
A deep breath
For the inevitable
Insatiable
Impossibility
A sweet fantasy
Tasting that much more
Decadent
To never be tasted
Or touched
Or lingered
And a wicked turn of the head
Walking the other way
From your swaying hips
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