The Call, by Cara Freyasdaughter

The Call

Mine is the rhythm

of your heart.

Mine is the grasp of

flesh to flesh, and

the pulse of hot of blood

in your veins.

Mine is the maddening thunder

in your groin, and the sweet

rolling sigh of your release.

Mine is the tangled,

salt-sweet sweat and

the clear, hot drip

between your legs.

Mine is the panted voiceless thanks,

Your smile of surrender,

Your awakened heart.

Mine is the wanting.

Mine is the waiting.

Mine is the watching.

Mine is the calling

come find me.

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