Undone

I touched her and got every fiber of my being set ablaze.

This girl who has got my attention.

She is intrigue. An uneven blend of fir

e and ice. I want to sit on her face and I want to kneel for her.

She is nervousness, she is calm, she is my undoing.

I want to sit on her legs astride. Naked. Grinding away in ecstatic abandon. 

I'll grab her neck, kiss her, our eyes locked. I'll make her moan my name.

This girl who has got me thinking of her more often than I'd like.

Bits and Pieces

I miss being in love with you. I miss believing in endless possibilities with you. I miss the silly things. I miss the embarrassing moments we made into inside jokes. I miss the I love 'yous'. Haha, I know you see what I did there. I miss the feel of you aching against me, wanting me. I miss those very gentle eager nods between my thighs as you press your hips on mine. I miss how you'll kiss behind my ears and sigh as one who has lost every will to regain control. I miss how you let all of you go, and you become an extension of me. I miss how you desire to please me, toes first. I miss how you know I love it wild, yet gentle. I miss how you say yes ma'am, in that voice drenched in lust. I miss wanting you, taking you. I miss owning you.

Broken Record

Before my friend became my first University boyfriend, he told me how he falls in love every day. I thought it was silly, love is not that fickle. That was twenty years ago.
I may have changed my mind because I have friends who may think me a broken record at the rate I fall in and out of love. Could love be fickle or am I just falling into nothingness disguised as love?
My great love two years ago was Monday, my friends couldn’t possibly hear the last of it, we went everywhere together, even when with my girls.
Last year it was Tuesday. He probably was a rebound and did not last as long as Wednesday. We did like same movies and laughed at same jokes, he really got me. He was easy.
Wednesday ended last month, he was always the life of the party, a charmer. Every girl wanted to be me, the relationship was a trophy.
Today, my friends are not so excited to hear about Thursday because I am a broken record who will fall in love with Friday tomorrow.