Of Lust

It's probably on of the hardest things to describe. The sensation resonates in your toes and almost instantly surges throughout your entire body, finally ceasing in the pit of your stomach. For all the right reasons, you feel wrong. Certain moral values are burnt into you as a child, but then, at that exact moment, you could care less about morality. Aside from obvious formalities, communication is strictly physical at first and often from across a crowded room. You stare. The gaze is returned, unobstructed. Time slows, but you long for a fast forward button to pass the unnerving silence. Initiation is a subject easily taught, but such an act, however simple and painless, takes every spoon-full of energy and guts your body has to offer. You hold your coward's tongue at knife point, forcing it to cooperate. Thoughts race with endless possibilities; a beautiful tragedy.

Conversation rolls off of your animated tongue; its actions inspired and resilient. Your numb brain is controlling your body like a drunken puppet master who is blinded by excitement and intrigue. The topic, random and pointless, is a mask to cover the true subject that is being communicated through their and your eyes. Time races with your heart and your tongue; leaving but few seconds for the flirtatious smirks and blinks. The unspoken question repeated every second within the cage of your chest. The bedlam of bodies and partying circulates around you. You don't notice or care. You forget the fury of the storm when you are in its eye.

Ambient lighting allows you to see the sea of their body. The comforter bears witness to harmony and rhythm. Flesh tangles and merges as one. Your body, as if swimming in the thickness of intimacy, forgets to breathe and forges a transparent bond with the feeling in your gut. Every angle of the bed is discovered. Your left hand, Magellan, and your right, Napoleon, You explore and conquer. Voiceless lips, diplomats, follow your hands. The trust and desire moistens your skin; it screams to be touched. Breathing feels foreign and forced out of your lungs. Shallow breath becomes deep and your bodies surge. Again time freezes, but your bodies gain momentum. The core of you surges uncontrollably giving you brief windows for you to consume oxygen. You grasp each other and cling together through the tempest. One last convulsion surges and your body is squeezed tight. Your legs drain, your face tightens, your toes curl, your lungs force you to take one big quick gasp then forcing out a powerful soul shaking sound that slices through the silence. Your bodies slowly cease movement. Reality awakens in your mind and you look next to yourself at a tired, smiling, beautiful tragedy.