Echo

You always come to me in the night; seeping slowly in with your warmth. I know the end but, reach out to you anyway. The hazy edges come into focus with the tickle of your hair on my thigh. Can you hear me sigh with content as your long chestnut tendrils slip softly through my fingers? Your rough hands rub so tenderly on my fragile waves; so sweet, so sweet. The slow trail of your warm breath on my cool skin tightens my peaks. Your leisurely worship teases my fancy. I arch into your kiss as you pierce the grape of joy. Covering my face with your feathered grip, I foolishly give you everything. I hold nothing back. What captivating light that comes from our eyes is shadowed by your tongue. Your voice of tumbling rocks brings back the biting cold. As the warmth fades away, I am left in the painful, sleeting darkness of your haunting turn and the muddy footprint of your scent. And still I ache to feel it again.