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your hands dip low and steady.
the sun washes the walls a warm red.
my lips part and the breath that is released--
merely a soft whisper on your neck.
we expand and contract, moving recklessly,
but with cause.
your spine winks at me through your flesh;
the very flesh I pierce with dull nails,
rake over shoulder blades,
hip bones--
down your shins.
air sucked through clenched teeth
"love" you whisper huskily
and I answer "is at it's end."
Thank you for taking the time to read my poem. I admit when I first wrote it I had every intention of making it a sensual piece describing a moment between two lovers, but as I was letting this all flow out, the whole image changed and I got this.