Bliss

In that moment of still expectation with eyes full of each other and the heat of flesh close enough to touch. There isn't a detail that I miss. The pattern that shapes your face, the swell of your bottom lip, the aquiline grace of your nose. My balance is lost, I am falling into you. 

All thoughts of explosions and wonderstruck romance long gone, only the texture of you against me. The movement, the head shift, the hand on my waist. It's all peripheral and nothing, not in this moment. It is soft and learning and tender. For a time.

Then there is pressure, and my teeth are aching to gnaw, and soon I'm fighting my way to your skin, that fragrance so heady. My bruised lips sliding across your body like the outstretched fingers of the blind.

A delicious tumult of clothing and grasping and then you're inside me, urgent. A pause, a lingering, an accommodation, and your eyes and lips are mine again while my body becomes your punctuation.