the beating of his breath

Demand the air from my lungs in your kiss and strangle my throat with the warmth of your lips. You are too kind and gentle, and the filth pulsing in my veins cannot fathom the serenity of your ways. There is no passion within a goodbye and romanticised ends meet no true love.

You have swabbed my nature and delegated a space for my hands but is there ever truly a home in the static… 

or have you led my escape with your sinful ways of angelic face. 

Reviews

[JC]

you most certainly have a way with words and there is so much I've read into this, the raging passion animalistic need that usually comes out in scenes of lustful destruction and the questioning of what is truly at the core of all our desires and if we should give ourselves up to the stark truth. Beautifully written piece of passion.