"musics the only thing that makes sense anymore, man" - Jojo, Across the Universe

I want to feel your mouth
discovering every crevice
I didn’t know I had.

I want restlessness.

I want the taste of desire
to make it’s way through my veins
and shocking my entire being
with the brush of your fingertips.

I want hunger.

I want the vibration of your sighs
and the press of your lips
burning against my skin.

I want desire.

I want to see the greed in your eyes
as they travel up and down
and lock onto mine
steadily holding my gaze.

I want tension.

I want the air thick with longing
and the desperate need
for more.

I want lust.

I want to be pressed
so close against you
no bystander would be able to tell
where my body ended
and yours began.

I want rough.

I want my lips swollen
and bruises
from your sting of possession
over my mouth
and the nape of my neck.

I want my name
to be the only word in your vocabulary
right next to “fuck”
and “yes please”.

I want breathless.

I want urgency.

I want your hands tangled and pulling
and pleading and digging
and scratching and clawing
and holding on for more.

I want you.