Your words are like your tongue: they send me reeling back into the breathless, tangled, sweaty nights that stay with me like candy-coated fog. I breathe you in when I'm not thinking clearly, nearly choke on the scent of your skin. Stretching upward, outward, I beg of you; stretching outward, inward, you supply. This give-and-take sustains my blood, heats it to a bubbling boil; only you can make me spill.
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