That curve,
between rib and hip,
is the place
my rough hand fits.
In fits, we dance,
sweat mingles
between palm and skin,
electric-tingle
of tension brought
by the dance
of your hips
against my fingers.
Let loose
and let me see
you whip.
©️ Obol, 2019.
oooohhh man! Yes. I love this.
Thank you! It’s smolders a bit
Yes! I do so love that. You wrote it out well.