Plea by Plea

The days grind by, crystalline in their fragility.

A screeching bone deep, soul deep,
the aching, a heart's to keep.

Hands fly into motions, through, designed to keep thoughts so far,
away from certain emotions, the longings and needs, seeping through every day,
daily growing, and in your hungry eyes, the bleeding does start showing.

Bleeding through.

Days grind into weeks.

The weeks grinding away, months quickly tear their way,
through time and space, with all the terrific speed, the oh-so hasty need,
of a planetary implosion.





The moments inbetween, the pounding of your heart, filled by the throbbing pulse,

of a desire that carves a cavern inside you, between thighs clenched with a need,

a need, painful in its description, pain that arcs delightful emptiness through your core,

simply at the thought.

Delightful in the manner insanity is blissful.

A tongue, a finger.
The hardened protrusion of another's desire.
Simple things, each and all.
Simple fixes, to a simple problem, that can swallow a complex mind whole.

The flick, the thrust.
Just the tip or the throbbing stroke,
simple things, to unhook from you,
the binding of deprivations yoke.

Whispered words of lust, tongue expertly following,
to stroke, to tease,
to make you beg, for the simple motions, that will please,
that will bring you to the brink,
release a beautiful song, cresting your horizon, so very near.

And all you must do.

Is beg.


To achieve the quivering that won't leave your legs,
knees unable to support you.
Back arching, toes clenched almost painfully.
Fingernails tearing furrows.

As rainbows create starburst explosions, behind your hidden eyes.
Ecstasy granted, breath by panted breath, thrust by thrust,
Plea. . .by plea.




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