learning to make music

My hips are slowly gyrating as I imagine the shapes your mouth makes as you speak.
I’d kiss you hard on the mouth, hoping the tingling of lips, yours and mine, would reach your beautiful brain. Synapses relaying the message
That I want to get to know every inch of you.
Body, and brain, and soul.
I think sometimes that I’m not a spiritual person
But when I think of what it’d be like to fall asleep to the sound of your breathing, to the rhythmic palpitations of muscle and not metaphor
If this is all there is. Right now. With you.
Turn up the volume.

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