That One Night

Senses ignited–

Sight:

Spied you

Then again

Then out of muscle memory

Or desire

Then by choice

The choice to spy

To hear

To taste

To smell

To touch

Sound:

The unstressed syllables writhing from your tongue

The stressed picking on an internal string

A melody, not all familiar

But haunting all the same

Taste:

Familiar pheromones

Linger on my tastebuds

A taste I’ve consistently wanted

To turn into a spice for

My perpetual consumption

Smell:

The pheromones draw from the mouth to the nose

The sweetest of inverse lines

A junky in the making

Touch:

Ends in a rippling of skin

A tangential echo

The lingering continues

For more

For less

For all of it

Spied you

Then again

Then out of muscle memory

Or desire

Then by choice

The choice to spy

To hear

To taste

To smell

To touch

A choice that isn’t

That enamors

That prevents

That allows

That frightens

That is

Fuck.

That’s love