My hips moved of their own accord;
I had no sense of what to do or how to feel.
Your hands held my hips as I began to ride my own high.
I couldn’t hear my own moans,
just my heart thundering in my ears and your hard grunts.
It was soothing and poetic.
Now I’m nearing my end,
feeling myself hanging over a cliff.
I’m ready to jump,
ready to go through that blissful high.
It hits me; it hits me hard.
My walls start to crash down,
desperate for you to come with me.
I feel what you’ve been saving for me.
I feel you spill deep inside me.
I crash drunken lips to yours,
and you whisper my name into my lips.
It was the last thing I heard
before my vision became unfocused,
I was met with blackness…