704. Untitled

[hes]

So this is based from the second prompt on the third challenge at even_angels_


In a tormented delight
of whispered touches,
the tremble of your hips
draws the confines
of my freedom.

And it's a palette of colours
fading from porcelain
to the darkest of reds --
riotous colours
that demand
both attention
and sensation at the same moment.

Tracing the colours
back upwards,
past hillocks
and hidden nooks,
ticklish but only by surprise.

Shifting the lines
into unending curves,
whispered secrets
a sweet diversion.

This unseen prison
holds still
by virtue of the taste
caught at the tip of the tongue --
sweet, tangy, hidden, captured.

And all the words
left unsaid,
mouthed only in the silence after
become the touches
that seek and caress,
smoothing away, neatly obsessed.

Today,
I am not afraid to love you,
telling you with no words
and only blind fingertips.