v u l v a l i c i o u s
it's right there, three inches from my outstretched fingers. and i want it, need it, grab and reach for it.
you're holding me, hard. the pressure almost too much, but never quite enough. i am aching for bruises. i am a bruise for the taking.
i want to remember you for the next two weeks, your fingertips leaving dents in my arms. a mark the color of ripe avocados, fading back to an underripe green.
even now, so far from you i can't even picture your face, i can feel you resonating through me, hammering me down. the thunk and thwap of your body, your instruments, your heart beating.
i can't quite touch it, no, but it's there. it's under my surface, under the hem of a skirt that's just short enough, just long enough. it's sharp enough to cut me, and i want it. control, release, power. mine.