It’s in the words.
This dream confused me.
For the life of me, I can’t let it be.
Our stomachs pressed together.
Dur et doux.
Why would that stick out to me?
Why should I be turned on by your stomach against my own?
My heart was racing, thighs and panties wet,
Ready to be your pet.
It was then I paid attention.
You whispered words in my ear.
Nonsensical, fast, slow, words.
With every word you spoke,
My mouth watered.
My skin pulsed.
My eyes dilated.
I wish I could remember the words you said to me.
I wish I could hold them close for the lonely nights.
I wish I could carry them with me like I do my sight.
It was the words.
I can’t seem to find my mark.
I’ve arrived upon the shark.
Where’s the time?
Surely I’ve not run out of mind?
Could you help me find?
Steadily, and with certainty,
I need a hand.
Someone whose willing to stand.
Yet I press on.
Foolishly, and with no navigation,
No thought out procession,
I press on.
I have to go.
I have to reach that place,
Where bodies are constantly pressed together.
Feelings that scratch the surface,
Light as a feather.
I need something to keep me warm,
From this incoming storm.
I need that form.
The one that makes me forsake the feelings….
Nothing formal is what I should have.
But the abnormal is what keeps me satisfied.
It keeps the beast that lives inside me satiated,
Not feeling emaciated,
Starving for flesh.
Is this a test?
If so I believe you’ve found my weakness.
You I believe have bested me.
Cheers for finding my fears,
and bringing them up for me to be lost,
to be unclear.