- Ink on the Thigh
- Hunger Between Us
We stand inches apart
close enough to feel
the ache between us,
not close enough
to soothe it.
Your eyes confess
what your mouth resists.
Each second stretches tight,
humming with sharp sweetness
of wanting you
before you finally
reach for me.











It sounds of a Cognac moment, confessing to the spider. Its kinky without the web.