Consummation

The touch of your skin
is electric air
that bends my soul to your fire
forever rippling
cascading to the heavens
to the brink
of our primal thrashes
and pleasure screams

Sex with you can seem
like a final clash
that brings to the moment a final crash
echoing thunder
from clouds that float us away
in a faux death until reborn
by a spark
to begin anew

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