its like a riddle.
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or more like a question.
it always goes unanswered,
taking shape within his form,
its easy to see the hardships he’s been through.
his touch is warm,
hot breath upon your skin.
shaking like your his first,
like you mean something,
just a little more then a one night stand.
or maybe more like a puzzle.
you can tell some pieces are missing.
its easy to see he’s different,
once you look into his eyes,
and find you have to look away.
fingers moving quickly,
like the moment could be stolen at any time.
he knows its not right,
but the plunge is too easy,
second sight, the lust is fulfilled.
definitely a question.
never final, his face changes to fast.
a heart to cold to chase,
but his touch is not solely yours,
his thoughts and lips tend to drift.
*the present is just a pleasant interruption of this past...*