Taste.

The sense of looking at you from across the room with the knowledge of knowing that my lips once traced every curve and bump of your skin with such precision as if I didn’t want to just devour you. I want you to feel the very exact need that I felt as you just flashed me a coy smile as if you didn’t see my eyes practically undress you and savor every moment. The way I want you to unravel under my touch, every gasp, every shuttering breath, every single moan of despair..I want all of it.

I want you to get so used to my love for you that you causally forget that this love of mine is as easy for me to give as it is easy for us to breathe. I wonder if I tainted your way of loving..I wonder if you think of me as much as I think of you.