In
The quickening
Devouring eyes dart
Never full
Hands anxious
Trembling touch tune to
Beckoning burn
Pressure building
Catching friction
Of laden tension
Under new moon
Noting
Temperature increase
Held hands dying desperate
For release
So that they
Could play
In a race
Seductive trace
Of life
Burning soothe
Simmering sweet
Drawing
Each breath
That builds
Each fire
Ever increase
The turn
Distance diminishes
As desire injected
Draws the other
Closing contact
Fractured selves rejoined
As souls
Furiously dance
In
The quickening
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