Your words lack substance.
I let them wash over me,
pass through me like white noise.
But, your kiss leaves me breathless.
The secret pink of your mouth,
the taste of nicotine and metal.
I have never been one to explore
caves or crevices - always afraid
of what I might find hidden,
afraid of what might attack.
But, with you the sense of danger
is alluring and I can't help
but press you against rough surfaces
and explore you. My hands are tourists
in strange lands, confused, amazed.
Words - yours, mine - are useless
in this foreign place. Just sounds here.
Just touch here.
