His fingertips traced
tiny circles upon my skin
a swirling of my sins,
To blend,
with his.
Large hands,
spreading my thighs
In sighs and moans
impending the rush
of his touch alone.
He was all the places
I wanted to be,
Inside his flesh
and the eternity,
of his heart.
As he tore through my flesh
in search of it's core
took what he wanted,
and then taking more.
Only he could reach
the absence of speech,
leaving me blurred,
with utters, and moans
Only he alone.
He was deep,
and deeper still,
To the loss of my will.
Sweet shutters, and ripples
of souls torn free,
As I became Him,
and He became, Me.
Every piece of my shell
He devoured within,
Passionate affection,
And the swirling of sins.
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