the storm is not outside

You are the image changing the void.
I am aware I am not supposed to desire you, but the sensations flowing out of the thoughts of you take my body and make of it an approving slave.

I was trying to forget the colors and scents of a storm and I have fallen into the trap of memory, recalling your movements, the taste of your body, the sound of your moans.

And those words.

Tales, of past and future, of worlds I never knew of a reality I don't recognize.
I would like to hear your voice, I would like to talk to you for hours or just stay in silence because your silence is shining and I see your beauty through that light.

I kiss your shoulder, holding you tightly, because I am afraid  that you'll disappear.
You let your fingers glide down my back and whisper in my hear smiling gently.

I love to see that expression on your face. You bite your under lip and take my body gently and roughly at the same time. I surrender to you because suddenly it's hard to breathe, to move or even to think.
I want you with me, for one hour, one second or even eternity.

Don't be scared. I know that my limit lies on the bottom of an empty glass and the bliss of making love will not make me forget where the truth is.
Trust me.

I am a jerk, I am not sane, I am lost in you, but I keep my promises.

I don't want to lose this touch, velvet ice on me, burning silently.
While the image fades, I listen to the rhythm of my own heart beating under a sky which is different, but still the same.

I am producing new reasons to apologize.

But I don't want to stop, I don't want you to leave, I want my dull days to bring me to hot nights of happiness, where you are again the only image dominating the void.

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Note of the author: It's always so breathtaking that I am not even sorry. damn.