Alexis Balmaceda

Hands reaching, clawing

A tangle of limbs and lips

My skin is burning

My muscles relax

But tense again from his touch

I can’t get enough

His scent in my nose

I need more than he’s giving

Steamed and raw, I ache

I am going mad

The water making it worse

Too prideful to beg

I’m at my limit

The water isn’t as hot

as my trembling hands

Shaky breaths, soft sounds

Drowned out by the heat we’ve made

No longer thinking

Pure adrenaline

Barely contained in one space

Two becoming one.