WTF just happened,
asked my brain after my thinking returned.
I expected a kiss. Even a good one.
But not this.
Not that I’d think about your kisses
even when days have passed.
That my body remembers your kisses.
Is longing for them.
That my body is asking for more
whispers and silent moans on our lips,
our tongues playing,
my heart hitting
the bottom of my belly like a rock,
and the sensation
reaching my toes and fingertips.
Exploring hands telling about inner confidence,
the type you can never pretend.
Your voice turning low,
and in my mind
I already know
that your lips will take away my ability
to speak, to walk, and to think.
And I wouldn’t mind.
No. Not at all.
My imagination keeps it busy
with all the fantasies that might happen,
based on the banter,
steamy conversations, suggestions and invitations,
questions and witty answers
that make me tighten my thighs.
Why, oh, why am I
listening to Marvin Gaye Let’s Get It On at 4AM?
Once again, it’s my body that keeps me awake.
And my brain
playing with my thoughts like lazy waves dancing on the sand.
Like your kisses.
I think about them. Again.
Moments when the world stops.
Everything is switched off.
The only thing that is on, is us kissing.
I. Was. Not. Expecting. This.
HTF did that happen?