You said you missed the softness of me.
But with it comes the weight of my body,
trying angles at the cusp, with yours.
Your hands caressing the sides of my thighs—you sigh saying how soft I am,
and how smooth. I feel the sudden flush on my cheeks.
You took me, without warning. You know how words lash at me more than actions,
where compliments, instant foreplay and not a sexual faux pas, but an intricate science: of attractions and reactions
because what goes around, cums around, eh?
I buck, as you fuck. (Did you get that bang for your buck?)
Oh such inappropriate pun, as you straddle my bum.
There is that blurred line between groan and moan because there is pain and please (But how can one distinguish between such truth? lies?)
There is lightness and weight of the morning sun seeping through the window,
illuminating the dips and slopes and crevices
of the paradise that is your body.