Quiet. Quiet.
Left side is twisted up. I never remember to keep track to see if they're switching, balanced.
It doesn't take long to feel the edge of good creep up. I struggle not to reach out and touch you because I know it will feel too good and I don't want to dissolve just yet. I can't tell at which point you can't stop yourself, despite my best efforts to behave.
Clothes aren't even on the floor and we are so wound up. Our bodies seem to know the timing of the songs that mean the most. Everything responds at unbelievable decibels.
I love the way you tell me to keep quiet and in my slipping grasp I try to comply. I echo your words, so quiet, apologizing into your neck. And when your feedback washes over me, we sleep, radiating so much heat.
It doesn't take long to feel the edge of good creep up. I struggle not to reach out and touch you because I know it will feel too good and I don't want to dissolve just yet. I can't tell at which point you can't stop yourself, despite my best efforts to behave.
Clothes aren't even on the floor and we are so wound up. Our bodies seem to know the timing of the songs that mean the most. Everything responds at unbelievable decibels.
I love the way you tell me to keep quiet and in my slipping grasp I try to comply. I echo your words, so quiet, apologizing into your neck. And when your feedback washes over me, we sleep, radiating so much heat.