He makes sure to look right at me as he placesHis electrical wire fingers on my skin “How do
He makes sure to look right at me as he places His electrical wire fingers on my skin “How does that feel” he asks Commanding my attention Responding is out of the question My lips quivering in anticipation He smiles Knows this is what hunger looks like I am a switchboard He is the circuits My hips move with his - rhythmic My voice isn’t my own when I moan It is music He sparks enough electricity inside me to power cities When he finishes what he’s started It is me who looks at him And says “that was magic” . . . ~Quoting Rupi Kaur -- source link
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