~Soren~
I stare at page thirty-seven.
My poem.
The one I wrote in the middle of the night when sleep was nowhere to be found. When I was feeling things I shouldn’t feel about someone I definitely shouldn’t want.
‘Let your mouth seek mine in the dark, Let your hands explore what your eyes are unable to see. Let your body say whatever your lips are too scared to say.’
But it doesn’t stop there anymore.
Beneath my words, in another writing— his handwriting and the poem continues.
‘Oh, I burn for the forbidden, For the touch that condemns, For the desire that damns.’
‘My hunger knows nothing but that it wants, and no guilt nor shame attached to it.’
‘I am ruined by wanting.
Ruined by the ache of almost.’
‘Let me taste sin on your tongue. ‘Let me memorize the terrain of your surre
