Touch v2

i just daydreamed about you fucking me while i was fucking myself
and you made me come and i made you come
and it wasn't like those fake at the same time things in the movies, it was asynchronous and it was reaaaaaalllll

because you and i weren't friends and i wasn't your favorite tattoo artist and you weren't just my exact type of man that makes me forget how superior at everything women are

in my dream
you were just some guy i met in a park while sitting dancing smoking in the sun ignoring the fact i forgot sunscreen and wishing for you to age me forward because what the hell at this point

in my dream
we had this insane chemistry to the point of not being able to hold a conversation because you speaking is just your lips teasing me and me breathing is just my breasts gnawing at you

in my dream
all you did was push me to whatever ground you could find and all i did was say yes please more please, and all you did was touch me slowly,
achingly slowly,
painfully slowly,
horrendously slowly

until my body twitched with the need for more
until the breeze of your finger hovering near my hip was enough to arch my back,
gasping for air,
testing my weakened lung capacity,
so out of breath my head started to spin,
madness overcoming me,
pleading your touch to wrinkle my skin,
to etch into me,
to offer proof

that you were once mine.