i want to feel the rough passage of the air struggling through your neck as i wrap my hands around it

i want my face over yours, so my skin can taste every crushed-velvet gasp for air

i want to feel your fire twitching around me as your body fights to survive


i want to feel the ecstatic fear rising in my veins as i lose my strength

i want you to capture every failed breath as your own

i want you to take me as we practice dying for the thousandth time

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every time you see them you look down. sideways.


because you know in the deepest furious pits of your soul that if your eyes make the briefest most exquisite touch they will see every panting orgasm, every operatic moan, every time you whispered their name under your sheets when you thought the world was asleep.

they will know about every time you rocked yourself to the mountains of hell and back with the ghost of their hands around your neck.

they will know

they will know about the ecstatic, nauseating need that rises from the center of your body every time you hear their name.

and then one day you don’t look away in time and in their face you see a hundred sleepless nights, you hear your name echoing every sigh you have made over the last months and you know

you know that they shared every breathless moment and will share ten thousand more

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