Eyes, closed

Never saw it coming, did you?
In its awkward, embarrassing inevitability.
Its cloak of shame slowly embracing,
Like a bittersweet reminder of your inability.
Too much, too often, too soon and for too long.

Trading tact for thought
Moist for sight
Kisses for their lot.

And now everything is yours to witness.
The endless variety, at you feet.
Dim lit? Color? Close your eyes and let it.
Volumetrics, situational flare. There.
Action, number, size. It is your prize.
Volatile variations, length and language. It's all theirs, health.
Erasing the sickness within? Whispiring its certainty?
Block away the truth, in lie laced cells.
It's not enough. It hurts too much, for it is too little.
But now, there's no stop sign ahead.
Though undeserving as it may be.
Though more suitable a punishment could never be found.
Though it condensed much more than what your sins demanded.
So much more.

Imagine it, have it,
As a pacing, lukewarm feather, wet and still,
Tickling every pore, every shallow orifice.

Soap settled, saved and sanctified.
Sacrificed solely for someone's scent.
So, lay the sacred saviour, see it sinking in your silky skin,
Dreaming of another, of anyone,
Because the images are no longer enough.
Because now,
It truly tickles away,
As you look in rushing anxiety,
To find it's merely your own, foreign blood, rushing back in.

Remember, you hands already hold the key.
Broken as it may be.