passion befuddles me yet draws me close. i miss the warm fire of desire, the sudden, bombastic blaze of passion that leaves me reckless, and the aftermath,–slick, cold skin, the laughs shared as our hands trace and linger. i am dizzy on you. rose-colored aviator shades when he tells me I’m beautiful, i only play 90’s R&B when I think of him. he evades my notice, the hunt cannot continue without my pray. he pushes me to do better yet he also questions my methods. Am I woman enough to attract such a man? its the exchange of lips I miss the most. secrets mist through my teeth, my tongue licks up the roof of your mouth–eager to taste the sins you have kept hidden. I am a being of need and i will never apologize for my stamina. pleasure is made for two; a tango that demands mutual determination. i have lead the dance alone, have turned to a shadow dance that i preform at home–alone. my hands are tools that I have once neglected. We have been designed for independence yet we have been lead to believe that others need to gives us satisfaction. my body hungers for release yet my mind demands patience. i was once untried, a horse unbroken and unsaddled. a wild mustang prancing in the bountiful moors, i was taken down by a bullet molded by naivety and broken with dishonesty. a dedicated pupil, i learned at the hand of an amateur but surpassed the clumsy transactions with ease. love and lust, can they ever be one and the same thing? Does one come before the other or must we choose solely one?