I feel the angst beneath my skin.
Twisting, churning.
Repressed beneath it's fleshy containment.

Were I not so persistent I would stop to notice - admiring,
as it mocks that of a river that chisels the soil,
flowing rapid to it's final destination.

This river of angst is not a stranger to me.
It is an old bedfellow of mine.

No admiration of it now.
I am focused instead,
I lay watch to the bushes - attentive.
Waiting for movement.

I can feel your eyes watching me,
burning, anchored.
Piercing the skin that crawls now.

Fixed upon my body like fire - strategic.
I contend to child-like ignorance,
and feign at the moss beneth my feet.

  But the leaves rustle sllight.
 As if teasing.

Perhaps they hold an answer.
A piece or scent,
confirmation of your presence - there.
Instead they hush.

I pause as terrified prey.
Halted, skeptical.
The seventh sense, the victims intuition to feel.

No presence, the surronding stills - halted.
My perception only serves to blind,
the cruelest of peripherals.

I am left to curiosity.
'Twas only the wind-- nothing else.

Eliptic my emotions play.
Banging into each other stubbornly,
Insides that spoke loudly of hunger - lust.
Now stall in malaise.

I feel the heat of your breath on my neck.
Hurried, hungry.
Is this again my child-like imagination?

Fingertips outstretch and slide upwards - softly.
Translucent they connect reality and fantasy,
 as they drag along the valley of my spine.

They halt and rest ghost-like.
Shadowed now on the small of my back.

I feel no terror.
I succumb to this mystery only,
instead of running I am comforted - intent.
  Immersed in invisible presence.

You pull me into your life force.
Unyielding, selfishly.
Gripping, the tips of your fingers rip.

I close my eyes and permit your intentions - wanting,
Memorizing the path of your traveling fingers
to my breasts and then south.

 Peeking only to investigate the reflection.
Growing in mass, in the bellow of the river at my feet

There is nothing but I.
My yeilding desire is the only audience,
Yet two animals in the arena - alerted.
I am hunted, and he is the captor.

 Fingers pinch and glide to erect.
Playfully, intricate.
Your mouth lays soft against my ear.

This whisper commands silence - submission.
Lips that spell danger and hunger,
so soft to the touch of it's prize. 

I pay no mind of the leaves that rustle now.
I am captivated --  the game is on.

No resistance is met.
Strong they hands that bind me come,
to cover my lips from quivering.
  verbalizing of response or rejection.

Knees fall hard to the soft grass.
Forced, hurried.
Face down near the river. my cheeks meet with them.

I've lost control for the moment - powerless.
Your life force envelopes all-encompassing,
I can almost feel your skin.

There is no instead, there is only your penetration.
It consumes and combusts, and with it brings

My fingernails dig deep into soil.
Only mimicking as your grip tightens,
taking the brilliant prize that you seek
Locks open, presenting the Polaris.

  Forced deep as you claim it for your own.
Slow, slippery.
I show no duress at your domination.

Puppet-like at your command - servitude.
Tickled by the non-existent fingers of my master,
controlled by the invisible.

Inflexible and unforgiving I'm driven.
Elation of the uptmost sensation.

A sensual cry into the dusky air.
Harmonic moans break the breath,
adding energy to the water as it crashendos.
We have only yet begun to satisfy.

Your motions grow slow it seems.
Precise, steady.
The swell of readiness is abundant.

It's all consuming - deadly.
Taking me to a place of sheer ecstasy,
where ownership is not only a blessing.

I feel complete as it surges and blends into satisfaction.
I feel elated, animalistic.