I thought I would tear the paint off your walls;
it was a burnt sienna type of orange,
adult orange
& we were doing adult things.
I'm about to unpeel my legs out of my stockings
but you stop me with your hands
you stop me with your tongue
leave them on you say,
you tell me.
You dip me onto your sheets,
your lips melt down my hips
& that painful crawl of your tongue
finally reaches where I want it to be,
where I've been waiting
so I can
ride your melody
& I'll let you take me
but you dont, not yet,
you wait
until I object
until my desires
are screaming to the ceiling.