Photo credit: Eve Thomas
Its Hard to Breathe Right Now
By Eve Thomas
It’s hard to breathe, right now. Feeling your skin against mine, this is a new adventure.
I’m falling, and love won’t catch me this time,
this is something else. This is raw, this is desire.
And I don’t know you; but now, I know parts of you. I’ve been handed the privilege,
to have you, and to have you take me,
take me anywhere you see fit. Anywhere, anytime.
And you, you’ve seen me,
completely, for all I physically am. Every touch,
every move you’ve made along me, on me, in me,
every rhythmic motion, you’ve loved me
with your body. It’s hard to breathe, right now.
I’ve allowed you here, in this moment,
even though I’ve only known you through the feel of your lips,
on mine. The touch of your fingers, your hands,
over my back,
and the friction of our bodies against a cold, hard wall.
You’ve touched every insecure, fragile piece of me
and put me back together in pleasure,
again and again,
and again, and again. This is
new to me; I’ve touched a stranger,
and he has known me in the deepest of ways.
You, lover, are all skin, and nothing but.
You, lover, have allowed me to forget,
the ones who’ve hurt me, the sorrows of my heart.
It’s hard to breathe, right now. It’s hard to describe what this is,
I’m out of breath, now.