Zero Four Thirty Sixteen

a poem about two lovers

Another room I’ll remember forever.

Another scent I’ll keep for myself. 

Your shirt is nice but your arms are better. 

Every embrace is a pray, please don’t let go. 

Warm to the touch. 

It’s time for lunch. 

It’s four thirty and your hands are lurking. 

Please touch me. 

You make me shake. 

Your vibrations make me quake and the houses inside of me start to break. 

Crumbling. 

In my ear you’re mumbling. 

Your voice makes love to my brain. 

Your hands around my throat. 

Please choke. 

The only air from my lungs is for you to allow me to breathe. 

Swallowing my tongue like its your favorite drug. 

You taste like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. 

I will always want more. 

For now I’ll be a w***e. 

But only yours.