The touch of your hands makes me want to claw away my own skin at times,
if only to bring my inner self closer to you.

Can you comprehend this breed of want?
You’ve made me tingle, shiver, shake.
Hunger, some would say.
I have been struck by the desire to understand and even
devour
the kind of man that would cause my spine to shudder
and tremble within its prison of my skin.

What are your motivations,
your inspirations which lie within your lips,
teeth, and fingertips coursing against me?

If only I knew.

You are still yet ripe with promise, possibilities,
and the unexpected.

I want to dissect you.
Realize and understand everything you stand for-
and stand against.

I cannot think beyond tomorrow,
and I will not yet expect great things from you.

We are not love, darling, but for now- we are enough.