Mouths

Mouths make us. Make us human. Talking, laughing, social interaction. Social equivalent of the nit-picking of other primates. Mouths. Expression of all that we are.

Mouths on each other’s bodies.  Why did I ever stay with that one* who only wanted to dry hump. For months. Oh, and receive my mouth, my love, my expression. Take, take, take.

Not now. Now it’s a delicious wrestling match of giving. I want to give more, now give me more, more. Wake up, kisses all over. Start all over. Hotdamn. Bribe me into bed with her body, bribe me out of bed with her body. Her smell, her perfume. I can smell it across the table, on my vest, my sheets, my neurons. 

It’s only a matter of time. Maybe this time I can let myself go and she’ll catch me. Just maybe.


*Same ex I mentioned in my first post. She is to remain pseudonym-less