how to make love at this volume

there is magic on our lips every time that we kiss and i don't mean it's subtle. more like i have held your hand a thousand times, but they feel different each time. like a new creature extending from my own appendage, and i am bonded to your arm and to you. i want to taste your body in my mouth, i want my teeth in your ivory thighs. i want my name inside your moans, to live and then die with you.

i wish that each day i could pick at the pomegranate that is your mind in ample clothing. that i could have your thoughts run down my arms, consume your nerves like finger food. the fruit of your womb is unadorned, something so sweet and so holy. your most tender bits on a plate and your softest pleas against my palate - it is feeding to the itch that lies in between my sternum and stomach.

what is satisfied first in the night, my inanition or my concupiscence, i cannot tell the difference. all i can see is the desire to caress and be absorbed and consumed. from the moment you met my lips i was salivating, sipping salaciousness - my mouth longs for you, my body aches for you. remembering the mountains and valleys of your skin, every nerve set ablaze as i am ravenous for you.

i could find you in a single moment, desperately searching compromise. i could walk a thousand lifetimes to get lost in your embrace. do you even realize my entire being was captured by you?