from the first whisper

of your breath on my skin, from the first

instance of intimacy the whole of me

has responded to you, for you,

at the urging of you. 

you and your complexity:

dark and darkly articulate, the words of you

drape themselves like so much sex,

the scent in the room, the sweat

of my body, laid out wet. 

in this moment we are not competitors

and i do not judge myself against you;

instead against memories,

yours and mine, of years of lust:

how do i compare, my dear? how do i

measure up? 

acknowledge my deceit: i have come here

looking for safe passage, while telling you

that danger will suffice. but

the risk of you, quiet and intense, 

is what brought me in. 

if you don't pretend you are here for love,

then i won't pretend you make me feel safe,

and we will both climax harder for it.