Curiosity

I could crave the heat of your body as I have craved so many physical things, could become addicted to the way you make my synapses fire, fill my brain and blood with chemical euphoria like heroin and leave me gasping, shuddering, sweating, exhausted like night terrors.I could beg you to tame me when our hips rock in tandem, your fingernails dig into my back and come away bloody, my teeth find the soft, sweet flesh of your throat and leave you trembling.

I can see the way your body would arch, you toes would curl, your eyes would slam shut as your mouth hung open, can feel your breath in my ear carrying pleas of "harder", "fuck me", "hurt me". I know what you would look like covered in scratches, bruises, welts, sweat, saliva, cum and how you would lie there, chest heaving as your lungs hauled in oxygen to slow your racing heart.

I know these things, like I know Whitman and Shakespeare and Milton. Like I know the way you'd shudder when I read you their words and mine. I know them like I know your face, the subtle movement of your tongue when you wet your lips before I kiss you. I know them, and I don't know anything.

I can imagine you exceeding imagination. Defying everything I have come to expect and leaving me open-mouthed, gaping stupidly, wondering how I never thought of this before.

More than anything, I want to know.

Spilling out into infinity,
-S.R.