"Ropes"

My feet instinctively follow the path to his room. In darkness, flesh is bared tentatively, anticipating the burn of his fingertips on my skin. I want him to take me, then take me again. I want to inhale him, to devour him, to swim in the waters of his passion under the haze of this smoke screen as his mouth tastes the salt of my skin. Aleathia Drehmer 2007