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Our time together blooms in fevered placesof pulled curtains and close whispers,a darkened room where our hands mimic the familiar as we learn to take one another.We cannot leave evidence in our hearts, though,of the way this longing will mark us.I won't question the wine I taste when your lips race to cover mine,you won't question how quickly isveçbahis I make you tremble when my fingersslide and flutter deep inside you.Even when we're apart,you're a secret sewn to my being,it's your hand seizing me below,the wet tip of your tongueflicking against where I throb.Our fever breaks in the blooming of needs unchained,of isveçbahis giriş a darker longing I won't judge you for because your reflection glimmers like minebeneath the room's familiar haunted glow.We do not need to mention those spirits, though,the echoes that mimic our clamoring lust .I won't question the initials tattooedupon isveçbahis yeni giriş the skin my lips race to cover,you won't question the unfolding of your body and souland every conduit in between.Even when we're apart,my words are a pact sewn to your being,it's my mouth singeing your curves,impaling as you seize and quiver around me.Our darkness blooms when we're locked together,piercing a core we cannot reach alone,we cannot leave evidence in our hearts,even though this need will never evaporate.It ceaselessly follows us as we chase the echoes that mimic our clamoring lust.