an act of something

Hungers Breathe

I once thought all I needed to breathe was air, I soon found out, that his kiss was my need, my escape to know pleasure, to feel its desires,

Hands that wrote my stories have know become, my speech, my whispered pleads of this mans touch, and the knowledge of this have made me moan, again and again, as time has no time, as I am wrapped into him, his heat drives me to curse the heavens, for he is what is insane in me,

A once thought of pleasure out loud ashamed me, as I keep it to myself in my bedroom, with doors closed, but he, awakened a woman’s voice, to cry, to moan, to give pleasure with a whisper, to ask for more,

Hungers breathe came to me, aching and increasing my sense of skin on skin, I thought of know one but him, I sought him out, without shame, pleaded for him to touch me in places that brought me to my knees,

Crawling to him I asked for more, begged for him to give me more, and pleasure became another word in my vocabulary, as did his name, for which I did not know,

This was our secret, our escape into the dark world of lust; we fought passion, increased its awareness to our touch, of one another, and played with it, like school children experimenting,

A word filled my ears, as did the touch of his lips on mines, hungers breathe, escaped my need to know pleasure and pleaded for me to scream it’s name, for that was all I knew,

His name I no longer cared for,

Thoughts of him where only hunger, that feed my soul, I searched him out not for love, but for his ability to make me breathe, pleasure,