My hands wander slow. Softness that my fingertips crave like a peach but didn't couldn't touch. Paralyzed as I watch you squirm provocatively like a cat that knew the meaning of play. Yet candy sweet rain was vanilla mocha sugarcane. My words ached to describe. But there was no sound. No breath or oxygen for this fever that became me. Lips that haunted me. Hands that me and you a constant thing. Hungry. Lovesick. Curves like butter I can't stop to succumb to the fruit. That angels only dreamed of. But irresistible is this energy she is. That static that so bittersweet. My hand on the doorknob. Knowing the unraveling revelation of should I probably leave. That Sultry touch of heaven that had me. Caught up. Emotions just bleeding. Knowing I just can't have just one taste.