Innocence

Wrote this one as a draft for a poetry bit we were doing in English Lit. I ended up liking it a lot, so I'm publishing it now.

Soft yet rough, and strong yet gentle all at once. Your hands are a contridiction, just like the rest of you. Hands that have never known my tender skin before are now the very ones that carefully caress my body. Your fingers run through my hair and tip-toe down my stomach, leaving a trail of electricity- that refuses to fade- behind them. They wander places they shouldn't, and cause a sensation that sends me soaring through the very place where dreams are woven together.

Despite this all, we are innocent. We are surprisingly innocent, and so blissfully unaware of the road these actions will lead us down in the near future. These crimes, things we cannot prove nor disprove the existance of until we commit them again, will be the end of us. For now, though, we can be content. We are.

As we lay together, listening to each other's steadily slowing breath, I become accustomed to your presence. After many minutes of contemplation, I whisper in your ear, "Promise me we'll stay like this forever." Adoringly, yet oblivious to the true meaning and fear behind my words, you breathe back, "Of course. I'll always love you."

Little did we know, this innocence would not last forever...