Poetry

Savoring You

“I felt the burn of your touch.
And I needed you like air in my lungs.”

I felt the burn of your touch, like your skin was molten, searing me like a brand. And I wanted you to touch me everywhere. Because I needed it — needed you like I needed air in my lungs.

The carnal fury in your gaze was just as hot. The flames dancing in your irises. The predatory look as your eyes dragged up and down over me. It was like you could see right through me and knew exactly what I needed from you. And that small smile — that devilish grin on your face told me you’d take your time making sure you’d do each and every one of those things.

In those moments, I wanted to savor every moment. I wanted to take my time getting to know the way your skin felt under my fingertips. The intoxicating taste of your mouth, I wanted to get drunk on them.

I didn’t mind if I’d be reduced to ash by the time you were finished, because being with you in those moments was worth it.

© Sarah Doughty

And oh, it was worth it.

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10 thoughts on “Savoring You”

  1. You strike home with your narrative. Sensuality is a function of consciousness, an awareness of every beat of your heart and tremble of your pulse in your throat. Life courses through you, lingering wherever his lips touch your skin, hot, cold with unknown power… it raises us to levels known to gods.

    Nice

    Liked by 1 person

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