We face the past and the future, back to back. Tied tightly together. Flinching as the other is hit, crying as the other is used.
This time, we are bound together; face to face. Hot smooth skin, pressed thigh to thigh, chest to chest.
Feeling the sweat trickle down, leaving sweetened itchy trails, for the mind to follow.
Close enough to see pores, hair follicles, stroma and all the hopes streaming through your mind’s eye.
Algorithm easily predicted. Each drag of nails up your back causes your erection to pres into my stomach. (Later, it will be a faint imprint on my skin, like when my jeans are too tight and the back of the closure nicks my soft skin.)
When you are entered, when you are violated, my body reacts, sways with yours.
You plead with your slitted eyes, I cry out for you, with my open mouth.
Your tears stream down my cheeks and drip upon my collarbone, warm drops that add to the pool already full from mine.
Are we amusing or arousing, the two-backed beat we have become?
Do you recall when we look forward and backward, on in light, one in shadow?
Was it easier then?
Did it feel better?
Was it…
worth it?
Was it?
