I'm up, ma.

I’m up, ma,
Watching you, too,
My eyes on you from this bed,
Lying in between wake and rest.
I see last night on your skin,
The marks and stress.
Don’t worry, my Queen,
I’ll be taking care of you,
In just a moment.
Seeing you now,
Bare back I’d kiss.
Pantyless,
I can’t help grabbing hold,
Stroking,
Thinking what to do to you next.
I’m leaning back imagining you, but,
Without that skirt.
Maybe you slipping up these sheets, and,
Me inside that sweet mouth instead.

I love that you think I never rise the minute your side is not beside mine, that I wouldn’t notice. And that’s fine because the minute you go, I’m aware and stare, thinking of each new possibility, strategically. Deciding how to make you beg. You, me, three maybe. You, me tonight is enough. Before then, “Stay there, don’t move.”

I’ll come up from behind,
Pin you to that wall.
My hands fully wrapping around,
Your thin wrists and toned arms.
Deep and hard,
I’ll breathe every instruction,
Close to your neck,
Just how you know,
While I’m… You know,
Tip to shaft, and,
You be on your toes,
Praying to your God.

Then I’ll pull you in closer, no refrain, from the chain necklace I tell you to wear each day. “Please, please, please…” You’ll entreat, thinking that will save you from me. You obey, and,
I’ll hold,
You,
In place,
Spreading your legs furthest a part.
My tongue, thick and agile.
I can taste it now,
Vanilla,
Rose,
Sweet,
Strawberry ripe.
My fingers gripping your thighs,
And…

Burying my face into your drip until your legs are too numb, too weak. My favorite part, tracing tiny circles on the plumpest, pink pearl. Steady, to your left adjacent. I know where makes you grab air. “Turn around.” And, “Get on the bed, beauty. I’m not done with you, yet.”

His perspective. Following, When you wake.

Between Jerusalem and Mexico, a taboo love.