Burn
Have I wasted seconds?Have I wasted the wetness of sight?
Moving slowly,
Slowly --
From head to foot.
Passion
Heats the furnace,
Sears the pulsing blood.
There -- your lips.
There -- your hands.
What can fingertips teach
But the sensation of
Loneliness chased away?
Have I wasted breath --
There -- your calves.
The breadth of your shoulders...
What can scent teach
But the relief of you
Filling my lungs?
Every moment before a moment wasted.
The caress of heat,
A slow, fervent burn
Over....
...whelms...
Aflame,
I awake.
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