It’s a hand in the fold of your back. Warm. Skin smooth as tomorrow’s horizon. Possibility. It’s a cheek nestled just under your chin. Short breaths that tickle your neck as you swallow all apprehension. It’s the embrace that folds you 1000 times. You’ll never be alone. You’ll never be let go. Heart beats like duct tape keeping two bodies intertwined. Sweat beads down palms full of questions. Eyes avoid lips that whisper, “take me,” like a death bed proclamation. If only we could move beyond right now. If only we could bow out gracefully and seige this forever. This is a walk on the wild side. This is what the natives meant by love making. This is our revolution. Surrender to these arms and let us declare war.

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