Ficly

Grace

A tension
stiff with scent
sits between
our quivered eyes
staring straight
into the other.

A whisper
barely audible
scatters the silence
into tiny baubles
scattering.

A light touch
quickens me.
I can hear the blood
pulsing through
my veins.

A kiss
rife with nerves
almost craving rejection.

Lips inches
millimetres apart,
his breath on mine.

A tension
held for the longest second
at this first taste.

Eyes meet in our void
big and bewildered.

A whisper
barely audible
but that I feel dancing
through my parted lips
whistling over my tongue
shivering over my skin.

A light touch
gracing my neck
my lungs react sudden
stealing his air with glut
my eyes shut.

A kiss
soft and graceful
and then a stirring
and I don’t want just his lips
and hands wander to necks
and we press together hard
and harder
and something hot
and wet in my mouth
and our tongues dance
and I want him
and I feel him
and he wants me
and it’s new
and exciting
and this —

A pause.
A smile.
A tension.
A whisper.
A touch.
A kiss.

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