It wasn’t

It wasn’t her mouth, her eyes, her
demeanor. ..a trap all…it was
the motion from there to here, a
sashay of emotion, the glisten of
wet skin
clinging fabric
the idea once had and forgotten
and reanimated
Lazarus of the moment
she seemed so…
bare
incomplete
structured
waiting
I had no choice but to follow
one heartbeat
after
the
next
it wasn’t her mouth, her eyes, her
willing trajectory
it was the shine of
bright expectation
jagged breath
and the
eventual
relaxation into
sliding
sinking
sullenly disappearing
into that
which is
her

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