THREE

I spread to the heat of her touch
welcomed his tongue’s kiss upon my ribs
heaving hungrily to fill starved voids
in the sweat soaked sack of slacking inhibition.
There is pain in fever penetrated by stiff diligence
– he could’ve cut his nails shorter but
I am dosed by the salted, brown-sugar
intoxication clinging to her everywhere. My nostrils
blood-hounding after her skin, her roped hair, and I
think about first times as he thrust me from high
altitudes into cold electric shock simmering, between breaths,
to a warm euphoric glaze.

–adrienne ophelia
Instagram: @ophelias.eyes

Pieces: an Anthology on Sale at Amazon!

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