found this in someones profile.
spread-eagle on creaking beds, hoping your roommates don't wake up. Sweat running into open mouths and whispers of undeniable pleasure. Getting sore with each new thrust and waiting for that moment when the world seems worth it. Knowing that moment doesn't exist in any place but your own private hopes-and-dreams land. What we think is love is really just locked ankles over someone's back while they get their fix of your skin. Trying not to bang against the wall with each knock of bony hips. Filling one of your holes only to realize there have been countless others left empty. What we've been taught about love is, it's okay between married couples under a watchful God, but no one else. What we know about love is, it doesn't exist in empty promises even if we tell ourselves it does. Grasping hands and pumping blood do not create l-o-v-e. Love is the look I give you when you pull a cheap cigarette to your lips and inhale. It is my hand resting gently on your heart, waiting for the beat to match my own. Gentle carresses under a setting moon with eyes closed and mouths silent. Love is when every moment between us reaches eternity. Knowing my sins, I want to breathe you in whether it means Heaven or Hell. Knowing my sins, I am drawn to you still.