Eat Me~Devour me

     Eat me, the phrase lives in my head with every touch and every glimpse of your lips. Devour me my mind, my body, my soul until you have no choice but to pour into me. The sentence repeats like a consistent loop. 

    Barely a prayer. Barely a confession.

    I want to be fully felt, appreciated and loved. Touch my body yes but understand my thoughts, my pauses, the parts of me that stay unspoken, because I already known how easily they can be misunderstood.

    There is something undeniably sexy about wanting to be consumed, wanting to both trigger the beast and tame it. on the other hand, there is something quietly holy about wanting to be held by it too without being owned by it.   

    I don't want promises. I don't want permanence. 

    I want a presence that doesn't flinch.

    Eat me, in the way attraction pulls at the skin. Devour me, in the way yearning reaches for the soul. I know the difference; I can feel it.

    I can envision it so well I can feel it, taste it. can you feel me yearning? can you feel my heart begging? my skin clinging? each lick of your lips, reinforces it. the craving trapped in your throat because you refuse to give in. 

    You know you want too, you know you want this. why fight it?

    Anyways, some desires aren't meant to be acted on. They're meant to be witnessed, and this is me witnessing mine.

    Thanks for reading, goodnight.

𖤐 ✦ 𖠷 ✦ 𖤐