If I could trap my feeling in a glass jar, I hope it makes a blueish light. I'm calm, not cold, but I'm so shaken by desire that my skin could burn and flake, unless I make love to someone. It's hard to admit when it's this strong but here I am, naked in the face of its force. I want to kiss, and bite, and suck, scratch and leave marks and drive him wild. And I want to be torn from the inside, to be engulfed and wrapped and swallowed until the first lights of the sun.
All of this is pointless, there are no words to relieve this feeling. Another night passes, when all I can do is fantasize and imagine
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