Tidal

The ache is there again. It’s in the bundle of nerves the pads of your fingers cradled last; the cavern at the end of my jaw only you can find. 

Your fists are pistons, your whispers, bullets. I’m something to be sculpted, shaped, shadowed while you eclipse me into stillness. 

Tonight, you find my resistance and spit in its face. You find the yearning things and clench them between your teeth until they flow down your throat like honey. 

The muscles of my eyelids hurt from how hard I’m trying to hide, trying to run away in my head. You pull the words I can’t say out of my center and let me be a mournful, messy thing. You let me thrash like a tidal; until I’m nothing but deep blues and salt water streaks, shoulders that try to crescent close to my chest to roll me through this storm. 

The cadence of your whip is lightning in the distance that’s moving closer in the dark. I arch under your heavy breaths, the sound of your boots dancing rampant across the floor. You spoon my fear with stinging cracks that open my skin, let that other part of me that’s inside breathe.

Later, I’m violet from your violence, an etching of colors that blur beautifully from the impasto of your menace.

My body drops below you like the ground is a cloud, like my knees know where they belong. My lips find the toe of your boot while you angle the tread on my shoulder, dig in like you mean it. 

My mouth always means it with you. My hands fill themselves from strongholds I find in the fabric of your clothes, my tendons sigh at pieces of your skin you keep close enough to let me touch. 

The air between us holds its breath until it hears my diaphragm statue itself before the blows come again, before your boots snuff out what’s left of me. You collar your voice around my neck like a chain and I let it freeze the middle of my spine, slide into the truth of your riptide. 

You stand me up and your presence falls over my shoulders like warm rain. The swell of you rises and I want to let myself run languid down your legs so my melting keeps you warm, holds you higher. 

Later, we are walking down the hall toward your bedroom and I want to stand still and snapshot this: your naked shoulders, the black slack of your belt against your hips, the strong curve of your neck my teeth want to purr against. 

I can smell your sweat and leather, feel the growl of your cock between your legs I hope I earned tonight. I like that I’m settled inside your shadow on the floor, how it leads me from behind, pulls me to another place. I glance at your jawline and remember how it feels against the dampness of my thigh. I stare at the pointed burst of ink on your shoulder and recognize where my head will fit later.  My mouth waters to taste the cream of you, to be held between your legs while you squeeze my shoulders and shrink me into the shape I need to be. 

It’s the ache tonight but it’s also hunger, the sense I am pitted because you’re not looking at me across a room like the meat of me can feed the thing in you that doesn’t stop taking. I want to let you get to the bones of me, the carved part that’s left in the dark and is only made of truth