You won't allow your mouth to find my neck,
taste my pulse fluttering against your tongue.
You won't experience the frivolous sensation swelling
from your stomach while your mind feels intoxicated with want.
You won't inhale my scent or savor my perfume dancing with the day's motion.
I crave the tickle of your skin.
I silently beg for the kneading of your hands on my back,
my shoulders, my thighs…
I want your lips to deliberately flow over every inch of my flesh like warm oil,
as I try to contain the quivers that mount from female being.
You won't permit the rise of blood to invade your senses,
you won't drink in my desire, what you won't do for me…
…is the only thing I want.