Is this mic on?
The hot fingers of desire
dance to the inner music
tracing across every nerve
so rhythmic and achingly sweet.
Bodies moving, arching, pulling into each other.
Ragged breath raw with need
escapes parted lips
while lazy eyes lock and drink in the warmth
of knowing release is near
until at last the shuddering climax
rocks and rolls
and then gently fades into a lullaby.
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