It’s pointless. 

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I danced my fingers across your chest as we laid there in a blanket of sweat. Leaning over to kiss my lips, I giggle as I begin mouthing words to conclude this evening. A loose tongue can be a downfall for men in some eyes, but women like me never fear the power of words when dealing with men of such nature. Rhythms still synced, bodies still moving and the meeting between flesh commences once again. I wanna get lost tonight beneath you. Lost beneath the moans and the kisses. Find me between gasps and arches. You can feel our bodies rise. You say the night is still young and home is not where you wanna go, so I smile and pause. So I reintroduce moving lips forming words, and I ask when does this end? You reply simply, so matter of factly, well, when she gets pregnant. I laugh softly while saying you don’t even want kids. Stillness. Breathing slows down and hesitation presents itself. I don’t know why it is but suddenly my body yearns for you, deeply. Here we are. Lovers beneath a crescent moon. I taught you about starry nights and the connections between them. Remembering when morning would greet us through blinds. Clothes scattered. You finally look at me, eyes appearing mahogany against dim lighting. Intertwining colors of brown and gold reflecting off your skin. Legs willingly opening, ready to receive. Almost hypnotizing the way the body responds tonight. But my body is here. My body is yours. Lips parted slightly and words floating off your tongue, the decadence in your statement, deliciously coated selfishness, the potency in its effectiveness to undress me once again. You respond deeply in my ear… I guess…this won’t end then…. 
Questions are really pointless with you.

Written June 15,2016. 

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