Making me Yours

You draw a finger along the shape of my cheek,

cupping my face with tender hands

Breathing deeply the scent that I wear

your lips barely touching mine.

I desire, I want, I need.

You back me to the wall, using your presence as a barrier

and I groan with desire.

You capture my mouth in yours, possessing me

claiming what you want, what you desire, what you have earned.

Knees shake unable to support me

as I collapse into your arms.

You carry me forward and drop me on the bed

as I watch from lidded eyes.

There is no explanation required;

as you drop down next to me.

All we have is this time, this now

take me and make me yours.

 

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

March 16/17