everlasting

everybody wants to sleep with you, to touch you where only usually you do, but none of them want your time, your real time, those hours you spend alone, in a big bed with no other body to fill the space. in those hours; the ones spent alone- you see yourself how they might see you- beautiful, radiant, young, without blemish (although you definitly do), somehow in those instances, fully unclothed you seem so perfect, fragile, vunerable, and seducing. but yet, it seems, even that isn't enough to keep someone coming back- to stay longer, to hold you tighter, to kiss you with an aftertaste that lingers. its all so transitory, all so fleeting that even you, (the one who makes boys, men, grandparents, and children alike blush), accept there absence. you tell yourself, "we are all animals, we all crave" but is it really so? is what seperates humans from other creatures not strong enough to impact our ability to want, need, and desire someone without time contstraints? without doubts, without a need to show one can be without the other? 

everyone wants to be inside you, but only inside certian oriffices, defined locations, roadmaps of goosebumps to lead their way. he told her he was cold, that he was reserved, that he didnt know how to love. He said he liked her tender sweetness, to him it probably tasted like am over ripe mango, viscid- uncontrollable- a waterfall of juices which flowed from his mouth like the words he wished to tell her but could not, they got stuck inbetween his teeth, like the pulp, which he picked with a steady dilegence which left her dumbfounded and silently flattered. she enjoyed their inability to converse naturally at times, and at others, able to speak about the deepest things with nonchalance in bed. He knew every one wanted her, it actually disabled him to love her before, (for his mind was too consumed with thought to function other body parts) he was intimiated but saw how sweet, honest, and vunerably giving she was, so easy was her love to attain once she decided to give it. was it the ease of which her love was given to him which transferred the power? 

she told him, in a letter, that she liked him soley, he replied with a visit which ended in her bed. She saw the dark sunken look which carved vienous bruises beneath his youthful eyes, highlighting his burnished ochre iris's. they both attempted to hide behind the length of his lashes, but failed miserably, they shone irridesnitly as he denied her to be His alone.