Exhalation Comes

Fingers, the seekers
that sear their vision
into my skin, prowl against
the shadows of flickering flame.
My curves savor the
onslaught of tongue and flesh
as you devour
whatever reason I posses.
Who needs a road map?
Not you, who remembers
all directions in the dark.
Breath travels slowly
as your tongue follows eyes
and I grab you with my senses.
I am done and undone by my want for you.
Heat swells with a yet unsated need.

The wine of certain satisfaction
courses through veins which course
through my body, your body
as they join in the exchange
of heat and light.
I glisten and gasp
as I search for my composure
among shadow-ravaged sheets,
then drop all pretenses
and throw my head back
in abandonment of all the things
that weigh me down.
Pleasure comes from
a glance, a touch, in a
breath inhaled and held.
Then exhalation comes.