This is our earthquake

Today, you are on my bed. Your shirt is a river drowning my fingers. Your body is moving above me- unusual- and your breath is quick, your lips and tongue snug and searching with mine. I am splayed beneath you, urgent with my own desires.

I want you naked, I know this. I still do not know what remains to be discovered beneath these protective layers: I have seen glimpses, flashes of skin, suggestions, and implications. I have seen the desire trapped between my ribs, sparking from my eyes, masked in curious fear in your belabored glances. I have felt the tremors of touch- and it has never been enough.

I want to ravish you. I want you to come back for more. Again, again, again.

The words & images are so thick today. I can't concentrate. There are thirty-two other things I should be doing right now, but instead I am sitting at my desk, wrapped in visions of no one but you.

...can you hear me?