Pressed against you,
warm and wanted,
pressure on that little part of my waist you like to toy with.
I am yours to toy with,
tortured in the sweetest way,
contorted,
calling out your name.
I call you,
the next day,
kneeling by my bed,
as if I’m praying.
Approaching you, as if you are a God.
Adoring you, as if I am a lovesick fool.
I am glowing as I sleep,
levitating high above my sheets,
you leave signals on my skin,
and I can feel you,
your fingerprints still fresh,
as I awake.
